


It Will Never Be Kylo Ren

by XxAlexaMorganxX



Series: The Redemption of Ren [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angry Kylo Ren, Angst, Awesome Leia, Character Death, Cutesy, Daddy Issues, Evil Snoke, F/M, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fix-It, Gen, Good Parent Han Solo, Han Solo Lives, Han Solo and Ben Bonding, Hurt/Comfort, Hux is Not Nice, Jealous Hux, Kylo Realises He's Been A Twat, Kylo Ren Angst, Kylo Ren Backstory, Kylo Ren Being a Little Shit, Kylo Ren Can Take a Hit, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Kylo Ren Needs a Hug, Kylo Ren Redemption, Kylo Ren Throws A Tantrum, Kylo Wants To Be Ben Again, M/M, Minor Hux/Kylo Ren, Minor Leia Organa/Han Solo, Much Needed Father Figure Han Solo, Parents Han and Leia, Protective Kylo Ren, Snoke Being a Dick, Stranded, Unintentional Pairing, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Young Ben Solo, hurt!Kylo, sick!kylo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 15:20:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 59,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5790520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxAlexaMorganxX/pseuds/XxAlexaMorganxX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Han Solo didn't regret getting hauled into the intergalactic war  by a teenager and a crazy old man. Han Solo didn't regret putting his ass on the line for that poncey Princess that unfairly insulted him, constantly. Han Solo never regretted that time he drank twenty-something glasses of dragonjuice at a weird canteen on Ryloth -- or the time he did it again. But he did regret one thing: failing the most important person in the entire galaxy. Ben Solo was his baby boy, the only being in the vast universe that called him 'dad' -- his proudest title -- and a word that he missed so much hearing. After promising his wife, General Leia Organa, Han Solo makes one final attempt to reach out to his lost son and to bring him back into the Light. Now stuck on a frozen wasteland of a planet with nothing but each other, a cave and a blistering snowstorm, Han and Kylo Ren have nothing other to do, than to finally talk and hope that the cold doesn't turn lethal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some minor edits and shizz.

Cold, metallic and lit mainly by the synthetic lighting, the interior structure of Starkiller base was almost surreal and most certainly astounding. Han Solo stood beside his forever loyal comrade, peering over the railing that showed little other than the steel-lined abyss far below. Except for the one moving figure, clad in black, walking with an assertive step across the symmetric, crimson lit bridge. To Han’s view, the black-hooded visage was barely more than a spec in the distance. It was ironic, that this had been the closest he had gotten to _him_ in years, and yet he had never felt further. But it was time to close the gap. Han knew deep down that this was the final chance he was going to get, the final chance to stop Kylo Ren from being permanently affiliated with that name. To be lost in the all-consuming Darkness, that had somehow managed to ensnare the entity before him.

Despite his reluctance, Han pulled himself away from the railing and looked up at his Wookiee companion. He took a breath before he spoke, filling his voice with his natural confidence, the confidence that had saved his life more times than he could count.  
  
“Chewie, you know the plan right, bud?” He placed a hand on his hip. The Wookiee made a noise of complaint. “Yes I know you don’t like it, but this is my son we’re talking about. I know he’s dangerous and I know what he is capable of, but this is my last shot, it’s something I gotta do on my own. You understand that right?”  
The Wookiee nodded and dipped his head. Han patted him on the arm.  
  
“I’m his father. He deserves this much, after all it was me who failed him in the first place.” He let out another breath, glancing back out at the bridge. “I want him back. Leia wants him back and I know you want him back, too, there’s no denying it. I mean, he’s pretty much your nephew after all. I will always remember you carrying Ben on your shoulders whenever you got the chance, and those many times you let him braid bits of your hair and then call you his padawan.”  
  
Chewie almost sounded embarrassed, twiddling a thick lock of so-called facial hair around an equally hairy finger. Han flashed his best friend a smile, a gesture that was often given to the ever-worrying Chewie, to tell him that everything was going to be fine and that Han would definitely get out of this alive, like he always did.  
  
Leaving Chewie to finish the mission to aid the Resistance, (placing explosives across the weak points of the base) Han made his way down to the bridge, forcing himself to move quickly to stop any chance of him changing his mind. The smuggler wasn’t one to turn down a mission, no matter how dangerous, he knew that. But there was something about this task, something that involved a deep rooted fear of failure, which had him hesitant. If this were any other mission that headed south, Han always knew it could be rectified with the quick use of his blaster. A blaster would be useless here. Even if it did become the last resort, Han knew for a fact that there was no way he would ever fire his weapon at the Knight of Ren. Ever. Or so he hoped.  
  
Han Solo came to a halt at the edge of the steel-plated conduit. This wasn’t the first time he had seen his son walking away from him.  
  
“Ben.” He called out, voice echoing through the vast space. A thick beam of white light from a high positioned window, illuminated the centre, and the slender, shadow-like figure that suddenly comes to a halt. His turn was swift, his footsteps heavy. Behind the motionless mask, he spoke, voice drowned out by the deep machinelike hum that impersonated the likes of his grandfather.  
  
“Han Solo. I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time.”  
  
Han let out a heavy breath, his eyes fixated on the figure he barely recognised. He took the first step in approaching his son, literally. Each stride came with a building lump in his throat and a dull thud that mixed with the constant hum of the glowing red fixtures.  
  
“Take off that mask, you don’t need it.”    
  
“What do you think you will see if I do?”  
  
“The face of my son.” This sharpness in Han’s voice was not hidden, nor was his grimace. For a moment Kylo remained still, a perfect silhouette of a statue, just standing, fists pressed at his sides. Then he raised his arms, an unhurried motion towards his helmet. Machine-driven joints separated the mask from its hold, and Kylo raised it from his face, showing the contrast of his pale skin against the dusk of his mask. Still tight in grasp, it hung heavy at his waist.    
  
This face didn’t belong to the boy that Han had loved and raised. They were similar, yes. The same freckles, the same brown eyes, the same black tresses, but that was just the physical detail and physical detail meant nothing in a world that could easily clone another living being. Still, Han knew that this man wasn’t a clone, wasn’t some genetically grown copy. He was the man who had inside him, the genes of a Solo and a Skywalker, birthed by Leia and raised by them both.  
  
Pressing his lips together, Han looked a little deeper. The traces of his son still remained, but barely, locked away behind those dark irises and that stony expression.  
  
“Your son is gone.” Kylo’s words were blunt. “He was weak and foolish like his father, so I destroyed him.”  
  
“That’s what Snoke wants you to believe.” Han took a few steps closer, determination blossoming as the face of his son got clearer and clearer. “But it’s not true. My son is alive.”  
  
“No. The Supreme Leader is wise.”  
  
“Snoke is using you for your power.” Han could see him plainly now. His features were sharp, his jawline sharper, with an expression that seemed to be stuck in a fixed sulk. There was nothing left of his youth, he had grown fully into his features, and yet all Han could see was a frightened child behind the disguise of age. “When he gets what he wants, he’ll crush you. You know it’s true.”  
  
“It’s too late.”  
  
“No it’s not.” Han stepped forward with fortitude, face to face with his child, hearing the hidden plea behind the voice that he knew inside out. “Leave here with me and come home. We miss you.”  
  
A glassy sheen of anguish soaked up the brown as Kylo fully met the gaze of his father. The ice of his façade slipped away without his consent; his lip quivered and his heart hammered in his chest.  
  
“I’m being torn apart.” He muttered, voice suddenly breaking. Maybe he owed his father at least a shred of honesty…after all, this was the last chance he was going to get, the last fraction of his old self that he was about to destroy forever. He was afraid to do it, but it was a necessity. “I want to be free of this pain…I know what I have to do, but I don’t know if I have the strength to do it…will you help me?”  
  
“Yes. Anything.” If there was one thing Han wouldn’t do, it was deny the aggrieved plea of his son. Kylo glanced away, his helmet slipped from his fingers and hit the ground with a loud, dull thud. He reached to his belt, unclipping the handle of his famed, fire spitting weapon and regarded it with almost resentment. It was the weapon that represented his discord and placement within the galaxy as a feared murderer – but it suited him, almost too well. Rested within his hands, Kylo offered the weapon to his father, hoping he would understand what he needed of him. It was selfish and he knew it, but he just wanted the suffering to end…even if it meant sacrificing what was left of his soul. Without a glimpse of hesitation, Han took hold of the hilt and gripped it tight.  
  
A thousand unspoken words were then said with just a single look. Han understood. He knew exactly what his son thought would save him from the war that raged on inside him. But he was wrong. It was in that second that he realised how ruined he had becomes under the influence of Snoke. He had decided that Kylo Ren was more important than Ben Solo.  
  
Not breaking visual contact, Han reached into his pocket, to the thin, plastic cylinder, and convinced himself that his son would forgive him this. One day. The action was quick. Kylo winced at the unanticipated pain and frowned in confusion. He slowly looked towards his arm as Han removed the thin spike of metal, having pressed its contents into the wildly pumping veins of his son. His mind blanked, unable to process the image in front of him. The muscles in his hands seized up and his lightsaber clattered to the ground.  
  
“What did you do?” He spluttered, stumbling and struggling his way through spinning vision. Kylo grabbed his head to steady himself, a reaction in vain as the darkness began to consume him. His legs went numb and buckled beneath him.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Han uttered, tossing the syringe into the cavernous drop below and holding out his arms in preparation for the staggering Kylo, who was seconds away from collapsing. He mentally cursed himself, realising the stupidity of the location of his plan, as he watched Kylo teeter on the bridge edge. He edged forwards, ready to react at any given second.  
  
“You betrayed me.” Kylo spat. His father was supposed to help him. That was what fathers were supposed to do, even it meant sacrificing themselves in the process. Han gritted his teeth at his son’s unforgiving words, ignoring the bite they left behind as Kylo crumpled downwards. Han couldn’t have moved faster as he caught his son around the waist, just centimetres away from plummeting to his doom.  
  
As the gravity of the situation caught up with him and with the weight of his full-grown son in his arms, Han descended to his knees, and simply, just, breathed. With his unconscious son’s head resting in the crook his neck, he buried his fingers through the unkempt black curls of Kylo’s hair, remembering the feel of the silken strands and the warmness it brought along. He had missed such a simple act of affection.  
  
“This is for your own good Ben. I can’t lose you, you are the best thing I ever managed to do with my life. If I don’t do this now, I’m afraid that I will never get you back…or Leia.” Han muttered. He had lost the two most important things in his life in one big explosion, even Chewie and the Millennium Falcon couldn’t mend the hole that they had left behind. He couldn’t replace the irreplaceable, nor would he ever be able to forgive himself for leaving his only child to rot in the clutches of the Darkness.  
  
Slipping one arm underneath Kylo’s knees and the other below his shoulders, Han somehow, to his own surprise, managed to lift Kylo as he returned to his feet. He was much heavier than he remembered, but lighter than he looked.  
  
“When did you grow up and get so big, huh kiddo?” Han almost cracked a smile. Who would have thought that one day that nickname could be used for his own child? He glanced down at Kylo’s pale, slumbering face, not at all peaceful. His eyebrows were furrowed in strain, lightly creasing the bridge of his nose, and his jaw was rigid, locked in a state of unease. His whole body was tense, it seemed even is sleep, Kylo got no respite from the internal war.  
  
Han knew what his son had become, the dark deeds he had commit out of his own free will, as skewered as that will may have been. But just looking at him now, there was no way he could ever condemn him. His own flesh and blood, his one and only son. It was strange, if he were anyone else, he would have wanted to shoot him a hundred times over without even feeling a pinch of remorse. Having a kid really was the true meaning behind unconditional love, a sentiment that couldn’t be explained without experience.  
  
As Han took his first step back across the bridge, his foot bumped into something hard. Looking down, he saw the helmet of Kylo Ren laid on its side. He kicked it over the edge. It hurt his toes in the process, but it was worth watching the thing plummet into the machine built chasm and disappear for good.  
  
“It’s Ben Solo. It will _never_ be Kylo Ren.”


	2. Chapter 1

The first thing Kylo Ren detected, was that he was freezing. The entirety of his back was numb from the sheer cold temperature that bore all the way into his spine. He had lost track of his limbs and briefly wondered if they were still even attached to his torso – he mused over the thought, curious to know if that was what Vader used to feel like, attached to all those robotic pieces. Peeking through closed lids, Kylo flinched as the light tore through his pupils and scorched his already throbbing head. It was by total reflex that Kylo found the use of his hand as he shielded his eyes from the light.  
  
Something crackled in the distance, something that smelt like burning, metal and smoke. Instincts kicked in as Kylo located his muscles and sprung to his feet, instantly regretting the action as a sharp pain shot up from his ankle. It forced his knees into submission and he crumpled back down. The snow had numbed the pain, he hadn’t even noticed. But now he definitely did. So he couldn’t even stand up? Great. Balling his hands into fists, he thumped the sides of his leather-clad hands into a solid patch of snow. Around him were distorted fragments of metal, black and red, melted into unnatural shapes, shapes that would have once formed a ship. At the realisation of what had most certainly transpired, Kylo hit the ground again.  
  
A sudden, infuriatingly familiar presence caught his attention and he flashed his gaze to his side, as a grey-haired man, carrying a satchel, broke into view through an opening between ivory white trees. Han was littered with minor cuts and the odd bruise, but nothing stood out as too serious. Kylo couldn’t help feel irritated that the old man came out better from this than he did. He truly was weak.  
  
“It’s about time you woke up. I would have thought the explosion would have done it, but I suppose you Force users rely more on your weird vibes than physical senses.” Han Solo remarked, his tone casual but slightly spiteful. He couldn’t help it, a small part of him blamed the Force itself for turning his son against him. After all, if Ben had never been Force sensitive in the first place, then he would have never been sent off to be trained under Luke, thus Snoke would have never taken an interest in him.   
“Han Solo.” Kylo ground out between clenched teeth, attempting once again to return to his feet. He was not going to be left kneeling in the presence of his insufferable father.  
  
“I wouldn’t put too much weight on that ankle of yours, it looks broken to me,” Han said. Kylo managed to stand regardless of the warning. With his weight balanced on his left leg, Kylo reached for his belt, expecting to find his lightsaber, which of course, wasn’t there.  
  
“Do you really think I would be stupid enough to leave that weap–”  
  
Han’s words were cut short as Kylo’s hand shot out, fingers hooked in motion of a chokehold. He probably should have seen that coming. A lightsaber was the far least of his troubles when it came to a Force user.  
  
“You drugged me. Why? What planet is this? Where is the Resistance?” Kylo tightened his grip. Somehow watching Han struggle for air made him feel both better and worse. Everything made him feel better and worse, it was because of that that he was constantly being torn in two.  
  
“One – question – at a time–” Han wheezed, clawing at the invisible fingers crushing his throat. “–Please.”  
  
“Answer me.” He raised his hand, lifting Han into the air until his feet no longer even reached the ground.  
  
“I can’t – you’re – choking – me.”  
  
With a sneer, Kylo retracted his hand and Han dropped heavily onto the snow, scattering a cloud of white dust. He clutched at his invisibly bruised neck, coughing up what felt like a lung. Han knew he should have been mad, no parent in their right mind would let their child get away with trying to asphyxiate them. But in all fairness, Kylo could have done much worse, and he had a right to be angry. Han just wished he wouldn’t be so blinded by it.  
  
“Now. Talk. Tell me why.” Kylo demanded, half-limping over to one of the trees to lean against, not liking the idea of sitting down on the icy ground or being at a lower position to Han. He wrapped his arms around his chest, blaming the insecure gesture on the fact that he was cold. Truthfully though, Kylo really wasn’t a fan of frosty temperatures, despite the fact that Starkiller base was fundamentally covered in snow and seemed to be during a constant blizzard. He much preferred to spend his time within his personal shuttle, or if need be, inside the base itself.  
  
Clearing his throat to wake his disrupted vocal cords from being crushed, Han tried to think of the least precarious way to answer Kylo’s questions. He didn’t want to make a habit of getting himself force-choked, especially as he really didn’t think his own temper would take it a second time.  
  
“I’ll tell you why, Ben. I was done. Done watching you destroy yourself. My plan was to take you away, far away, away from the First Order, away from the Resistance, away from the war – a last resort attempt to convince you to come home and that I still loved you.” Han explained.  
  
“Correction.” Kylo stated, fiddling with the singed cowl around his neck, staring at the ground with a look of bleak concentration. “You love Ben, not me. I am not Ben. Ben is long gone.”  
  
“People don’t just disappear,” Han argued, taking a hefty step closer to his son. “Well, maybe your uncle Luke did, but that is a totally different matter.”  
  
“So you decided to abduct me and smuggle me out of the First Order like some kind of spare part? Mustn’t have been too hard for you, smuggling was the only thing you were ever any good at.” He sneered, if only Han had been as good at being a father as he was at being a crook, then maybe he wouldn’t have been in this mess.  
  
“You’re right.” Han let out a sigh, latching his thumbs to his belt. “I never planned to join the Rebel Alliance, I never planned to help destroy the Empire, I never planned to fall in love…and I never, in a million light-years ever planned to be a father. That idea in itself was so incredible that I couldn’t even fantasize about it in my dreams, because I never thought something that amazing could ever happen to someone like me: a scumbag thief.”  
  
“I bet you regret that decision now.” Kylo exchanged half his weight to his injured ankle, just to feel the burn. It was an appropriate distraction and far less painful than this conversation.  
  
“Regret it?” No, no, no, Ben.” Han shook his head and made and attempt to approach his son, only to be given a warning glare worthy of impalement. He decided to keep his distance. “I have never and would never regret bringing you into this world. I may not have expected it, but you are the  
_best_ thing that had ever happened within my life, you and your mother.”  
  
“Really? I always thought that walking freak of a hairball and that piece of junk you call a ship were the most important things in your life.” Kylo snapped, starting to feel himself tremble. He well and truly hated the cold. “Which makes me wonder, why they’re not here, backing you up.”  
  
“I didn’t want to get them involved. This is my mission and my mission alone, hence why I hijacked one of your First Order ships and well, you see the wreckage.” Han gestured to the scattered remnants of metal, littering the white snow with ash and soot.  
  
“I see that your piloting skills are not as proficient as Grandfathers.” Kylo almost managed a smirk as he saw his father’s face turn red with fury. He couldn’t tell what bothered him more, the fact that he had insulted his piloting ability, or that he had done it comparing him to the infamous Darth Vader.  
  
“Hey. I didn’t crash it on purpose.” Han deliberately forgot about the silent threat from before as he marched over to Kylo to prod him in the shoulder. Kylo was actually startled by the action as Han continued to glower at him. “One of your damn ships shot me down, those Stormtroopers of yours really do have poor aim–”  
  
“They’re not mine.” Kylo muttered between Han, taking a livid breath.  
  
“–it was through my piloting skills that we actually managed to land without being obliterated. It wasn’t Darth-Bloody-Vader who saved your ass, it was me!” Han jabbed a thumb at himself. He wasn’t sure if he would ever understand why Kylo idolized Vader so much, it couldn’t have been just to spite him, could it? Kylo’s seemingly permanent frown deepened and he clenched his jaw, somehow finding the willpower to not throw a fit at the insult towards his esteemed family member. Han would never understand. He needed someone to look up to, someone who understood what he was going through, since his father disappointed him in being his role model.  
  
“Still, I suppose they did do me a favour. This isolation will probably do you good, especially since you’re stuck with me now.” Han stretched out his arms, indicating himself as the sole source of company Kylo would now have until they figured out a way off this frozen hell-hole.  
  
“Stuck with you? Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now?” Kylo’s eyes narrowed, an expression to compensate for the lack of conviction in his threat.  
  
“I can’t.” Han stated, he then crossed his arms. “But I can give you a reason as to why you won’t kill me.”  
  
“And why is that?” Kylo asked, sounding a little more than just curious. He hated it when Han pretended to know him, especially now, when it was too late. He had his whole childhood to understand him and yet he never bothered.  
  
“You haven’t got the strength to do it.” Han said. “You care too much.”  
  
“I have killed, Han Solo.” Kylo hissed, lower lip trembling again. He balled his hands into fists and thumped the white bark of the tree behind him. “I have taken lives for no reason other than to just take.” He was a threat, a murderer, he instilled terror in those he passed, and yet Han looked at him like he was no more dangerous than a Loth-Cat. The image he had created for himself was lost in the eyes of Han Solo, who was desperately clinging to the remnants of Ben. It would have been so much less painful if Han just accepted the fact that he was just Kylo Ren.  
  
“I know what you were asking of me, Ben.” Han said.  
  
“My name is NOT Ben.” Kylo kicked the piece of metal that rested near his wounded ankle.  
  
“I knew what you were thinking, I can read those eyes better than you can read them yourself.” Han disputed, swiping his hand across the icy air, listening to each rough breath that shook Kylo Ren’s form. “You thought killing me would be the last step to sever your ties with the Light and to fully embrace the Dark Side. You should have known that it would never have worked.”  
  
“How so?” Kylo bit back.  
  
“Killing me is not what you wanted, if you did, you would have done it without asking for my help. I saw your finger tremble over the ignition switch. It’s what Snoke wanted you to want. It would have destroyed you and from those ashes Snoke would have absolute control of a puppet who would do his bidding without question.” Han said, being vividly reminded of the desperate plea for help behind those brown eyes. All Snoke wanted was a weapon, not an apprentice. There would have been nothing human left behind the mask by the time he was finished.  
  
“Don’t pretend to understand me, Han Solo.” Kylo raised his hand once more, fingers locked at Han’s throat in a light squeeze. Han tensed up, feeling the hold, but not the choke.  
  
“Do it. Prove me wrong. If killing me is what you really want, I won’t stop you.” Han looked his son straight in the eyes, wanting them to be the last thing he saw if Snoke had done more damage to Kylo’s young mind than he had anticipated. Kylo’s grip tightened and his expression hardened. Han didn’t struggle, didn’t look afraid, he just took it, staring right at him. First Kylo’s fingers shook, then his hand…and finally his entire arm. With a frustrated growl, Kylo relented his hold, retracting his hand in a swift motion and turning his head even swifter.  
  
He jerked himself away from the support of the tree and dug his feet into the ground as he began to walk away, ignoring the pain in his ankle. Remaining in Han’s presence was far more agonizing. Managing to just about suppress a limp with fisted hands and rigid shoulders, he charged into the forestry.  
  
“Where exactly are you going, Ben?” Han had to roll his eyes at the fact that despite his childish effort, Kylo stood out like a sore thumb dressed in black, making it overly easy to follow him, especially with his stunted pace. As expected, Kylo ignored him and carried on walking, surprising Han with his tenacity to subdue pain.  
  
“Ben.” Han tried again, crunching powdery snow with every step. Flakes of ice had begun to fall from the silvery sky above. It was thick stuff, that didn’t melt on immediate contact, but instead lingered and seeped through clothing, freezing skin beneath. Kylo picked up speed, but doing so made his limp much more visible. Han sighed, his breath distinguishable within the frosty atmosphere.  
  
“Fine. If you want to play it like this.” He muttered to himself. “Where are you going, _Ren_?”  
  
“For a walk.” Kylo answered, voice laced with the discomfort of every other step.  
  
“You call _that_ a walk?”  
  
"Well I’m not going to wait around, listening to your false fantasy. The First Order will be out searching for me, it will only be a matter of time before Snoke locks onto my location; he keeps close tabs on General Hux and I. His power over the Force is...commendable.” Kylo replied, hoping that they would find him sooner rather than later. He wasn’t strong enough to deal with this situation, this test, he needed to get out before Snoke found out his weakness.    
  
Han mentally cursed himself for not taking into account the fact that Snoke would obviously be in constant observation of his two prized weapons. Especially Kylo, because of his connection to the Force and to the last, remaining Jedi. So now he had a time limit on his hands, one that was unknown and would result in disaster if he couldn’t prove himself before its end.  
  
“Why are you following me, Han Solo?” Kylo complained. He didn’t have to look to hear the second set of boot crunches behind him that mirrored every one of his own, just less noisily.  
  
“Who says I’m following you? I’m just walking in the same direction.”  
  
“At the same speed?”  
  
“Well, you’re limping and I’m old, our walking speed matches.” Han managed a smug grin at his answer. He wouldn’t usually like to refer himself as old, being a forever young kind of guy, but he had to admit his answer was quite snappy. Kylo growled and again picked up haste, trampling his way through the fallen sticks and the rapidly building layer of snow, swiping tree branches out of his way so hard that they snapped.  
  
“If you keep storming off like that, you’re going to hurt yourself.” Han was almost amused at the sight, being reminded of the tantrums that had to sit through as Ben grew up. Ben always had a short fuse and a very explosive temper, a lot like Vader. But like all explosive tempers, they always came back round to bite them in the ass. Just as Kylo’s had now. After a particularly hard stomp onto a thick clump of wood, Kylo’s ankle finally gave way. The already fractured bone completely snapped. He hit the ground with an angry shriek, his own willpower having been defeated by the likes of his own body’s defences.

“Ben!” Han’s parenting instincts kicked in at the sight of his son, nursing his ankle. He rushed forwards to help, only to be stopped by a sudden force from an outstretched hand, which pushed him into a nearby tree.  
  
“Stay away. Your help is unnecessary.” Kylo ground out through clenched teeth. Gingerly, Han pulled himself away from the trunk (that was definitely going to leave a bruise on his back) and grunted at the ache it left behind. Maybe his age really was catching up to him.  
  
“Do you know who your stubbornness remind me of?” Han uttered, placing a hand on his back and stretching out his spine with a wince. “Your mother.”  
  
“The woman who sent me away.” Kylo frowned, not wanting to hear anything more about the mother who betrayed him.  
  
“We thought it would have been best for you. You needed to learn, to control the power that was given to you. We thought that training under your uncle Luke would help, to rid you of all that pent up anger, to help you find tranquillity. We know now that we were wrong.” Not risking another attack, Han kept his distance.  
  
“As I became the one thing, Luke strived to defeat. Ironic.”  
  
“You were seduced. Like Anakin Skywalker was before you.”  
  
“And I slaughtered my fellow comrades in cold blood, just like my Grandfather before me, too.” Kylo added, trying to force the truth at Han, to make him see past the haze of his own clouded perception. He couldn’t take it, the compassion; the consideration that he didn’t deserve. What he had done was unforgiveable, if everyone around him could see that, then the pain would go away, and the imaginary hope of being redeemed would vanish. He would finally be at peace within the Darkness, a far less agonising outcome than battling with himself every waking moment. It was easier to accept being a monster than it was to fight it, to one day be free of guilt and remorse.  
  
“Ben…” Han reached out his hand. He knew that he would never reach him from this distance, but just the mere thought that he had the notion to place a comforting hand on his son’s shoulder gave him some satisfaction.  
  
“Kylo Ren.” Kylo scowled, finally looking his father. “No matter what shroud you place before your eyes when you look at me, it does not change the facts. I _chose_ to follow Snoke, I _chose_ to drive my lightsaber through those insufferable Jedi; I _chose_ to aid the First Order and to rid the Galaxy of rebels like you.”  
  
“You were young, you still are. Your past is still your past, there is still hope for you; you can still do good in this galaxy. You worship Vader so much, yet you seemed to have forgotten that it was through _his_ actions that the Sith was defeated.” Han reasoned, hoping that the mention of the idolized Vader would at least trigger some good inside the mind of his son.  
  
“That doesn’t change what Vader did, he is still the villain, still the monster that slaughtered and enslaved the galaxy under his rule. I’m a monster just like him and I always will be, so stop trying to turn me into something I’m not, for the sake of your own selfish nature. You are a damaged fool Han Solo, unable to accept the fact that his own son had turned against him.”  
  
“No, I still believe there is a good left in you.”  
  
“If you believe that, then you are an even bigger fool.” Kylo swatted a hand through a pile of snow, scattering a veil of white behind him.  
  
“I just want to help you.” Han beseeched, stricken by the amount of anger Kylo had pent up inside him; it was a fire that would burn anyone who got too close.  
  
“I don’t need your help, not anymore.” Kylo jeered, quaking in rage.  
  
“Ben…please.” Han went to approach him, deciding to risk it.  
   
“KYLO! MY NAME IS KYLO!” The Knight of Ren shouted, slapping the offered hand away. “How many times do I have to tell you that your son is dead? I killed him and he is never coming back.”  
  
“Fine.” Han grunted, retreating, expression wavering from annoyance to just plain old indifference. There was no way he was going to get anywhere until his son cooled off – and right now he was willing to let him do that quite literally. He forgot how gruelling it was to be around his son and how Leia always told him that the best way to deal with him when he was in one of his states, was to leave him alone. Exasperated, Han let out a long and arduous breath. “Have it your way, _Kylo Ren_. Stay out here, wager; see if the First order manages to find you before you freeze to death.”  
  
With that, he walked away, leaving the obstinate wreck of a son behind him. He wished Chewie was here with him right now, he really needed him to say something confidence-building. He was always one for giving good words of advice when he needed it most.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait guys. Finally done writing this so should be able to post once every few days now :) 
> 
> Also I made a thing. For the extra feels.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T3oXaJCMM0Q  
> Vid to go with the fic! (ignore my crappy editing skills lol)


	3. Chapter 2

After half an hour of trudging through the bitingly cold snow with his arms wrapped around himself to try and preserve what little heat he had left, (which had now picked up into a storm) Han finally came to a halt. Squinting, he turned around to see nothing but a wall of fast moving flakes of ice. He suddenly realised that there was no way to navigate his way back to where he had left his son to wait out his wrath. Damn. He just wasn’t expecting for the sky to start dumping a load of frost at this kind of speed, and for the temperature to plummet to a whole new low. Han knew if he didn’t find shelter soon, he would freeze to death, and so would his son. It hit him then, the state Kylo was left in – the man couldn’t even walk – he was stranded out in the cold and it looked like this storm was only just getting started, especially if his luck was anything to go by.   
  
“Dammit.” Han muttered under his breath, making out a large rock formation to the left of him, something which was indeed exciting. For as far back as he could remember, being on this cold-ass planet, white trees were the only thing he had come across. He should have taken his coat off of Chewie when it was offered, but that would have made things a little too obvious. Han headed towards the wall of rock for a closer inspection, praying to whatever higher power may be listening that it was a cave. It was. Han felt a sudden wave of relief flow through him, only to remember that he had to go and retrieve his son, as getting frozen in ice wasn’t reversible.

“When I decided that a rescue mission was in order for Ben, this was not what I had in mind.” Han sighed, stepping inside the cave for a brief moment, just to warm himself up a little. He would be no use either if he froze to death. After brushing off a layer of white coating, which he knew would be completely in vein, Han made his way back out into the storm.   
  
Every step made Hans boots sink deeper into the mushy ground and using his hand to shield his eyes was nothing but futile, not at all preventing the clumps of ice from sticking to his eyelashes. Yet he still trekked on. As the stream of snow became even thicker, Han realised he couldn’t see more than a few inches in front of him, which would really be a kriffing nuisance when it came to navigating his way around.   
  
“Screw this.” Han pulled out his blaster and shot at one of the nearby tree trunks, leaving a fierce black scorch mark against its bark. With every few trees he passed, he left another singed mark, admiring his own ingenious idea as he continued his search. It took him almost tripping to notice a small metal corner peeking out from a cloak of white, indicating that he had found his way back to the crash site. They hadn’t gotten far after that, Kylo had only managed a small distance before his ankle gave out. Retracing the path from memory, Han finally came across a recognisable array of trees, but of course, Kylo was nowhere to be seen.   
  
“Of course he wouldn’t just sit here. What was I thinking? Dammit Han, Leia was right when she called me a laserbrain.” He thumped himself on the forehead. “Leia will kill me if I tell her I lost our son in a blizzard…this really is not how I thought this day would go. I mean he’s wearing all black, how hard could it be to find him?” As if by some fluky coincidence, Han noticed a ripped strip of black fabric wrapped around a twig, flapping in the rush of wind. It was almost amusing, the idea that the trees seemed to be getting their revenge from Kylo batting his way through branches, breaking them. Han took a closer look, then spotted a set of tracks, tracks that considering the rapid downfall, could have only been made very recently.   
  
Rubbing some more warmth back into his shoulders, Han followed the tracks, until they ended underneath a large tree that provided as much shelter from the tempest as an umbrella. Kylo hadn’t managed to get far. Sat, hugging his knees and shivering violently, with hair and clothes coated in frost, Kylo was somehow using the Force as a buffer against the falling flakes. He looked up from his knees, face whiter than the ground itself.   
  
“W-w-what are you doing here S-Solo?” He scowled, not that he could really pull it off while stuttering and trembling. It was pitiful, he knew, but there wasn’t much else he could do other than to sit and wait the storm out when his ankle now refused any physical pressure whatsoever.   
  
“Rescuing you from your bad choices…and this snow storm. I found a cave that will make a decent shelter, I don’t think this storm is at its worse yet. I might be wrong, but that Force power you’re using, might be good at keeping the snow off of you, but I bet it does nothing against the cold.” Han remarked, feeling a stab of worry at how much worse off Kylo had taken to the temperature. He wondered how long he had just been sitting there, being able to nothing but let the ice overrun him.   
  
“I’ll take my ch-ch-chances.” Kylo murmured. The thought of being trapped in a cave with his father terrified him, it would just lead to an emotional confrontation that he wasn’t at all prepared for. At least the cold was numbing and gave him something else to focus on.   
  
“That’s it. I’ve had it up to the end of the galaxy and back with you, Ben.” Han grabbed Kylo by his upper arm and hauled him to his feet, stunning him into complete silence. “Stop being so childish, you’re twenty-four, not four. Your attitude is worse than Rancor shit and all this self-pitying is getting on my nerves. I am your father and you will listen to me. Now, either you will come along with me willingly or I’ll be forced to knock you out again and I’ll drag your sorry ass with me – and don’t think I won’t do that – I’ve done it once and I’ll do it again, except this time you’ll be left with a bruise.” He spun his blaster in his hand so the grip pointed outwards, ready to be used as a blunt weapon. Kylo blinked, not used to being treated like a child, especially by the likes of Han Solo.   
  
“Let go of me.” He tried to yank his arm out of his father’s grasp. Han only held on tighter.  
  
“You have until the count of three to make your decision. One.” Han raised his blaster as Kylo looked visibly shaken. “Two. Thr–”  
  
“Fine. I’ll come with you.” He relented, immediately regretting his decision. Not that there was much of a decision to be made.   
  
“Good choice.” Han gave him a nod before replacing his blaster back in the holster at his belt. Maybe he should have gone with the blunt, belligerent parenting approach in the first place. “Now, I’m going to help you walk, you don’t have to like it, but you’ve just got to deal with it.” He manoeuvred Kylo’s arm over his shoulders, feeling the man tense beside him, but quickly use him for the much needed support.  
  
“How did you find me?” Kylo uttered, turning his gaze as far away from Han as he could physically manage, repeating the phrase over in his head ‘you don’t have to like it, you’ve just got to deal with it.’  
  
“You’re not the first Skywalker that I’ve lost in the snow.” Han replied, remembering his time on Hoth and the rancid smell of that Tauntaun’s insides. Even now it made him shiver.   
  
Following the path of burnt tree trunks, which even Kylo thought to be a resourceful idea (not that he would ever admit that out loud), Han managed to steer them back towards the cave, making sure to pick up a few sizable branches along the way for an essential fire.   
  
By the time they reached the mouth of the cave, the storm was so fierce that the ice shards were like glass, sharp enough to leave small cuts across exposed skin as they zipped past.   
  
The first thing Kylo did once inside the cave, was pull away from Han, overdramatizing the action. Littered in small, bleeding cuts, primary across his cheekbones and nose, he managed to limp his way over towards a couple of large rocks which appeared to be the closest thing to a corner he could find. He promptly sat down – it was all very austere – up until the point where he sneezed. Still cold, he wrapped his arms around himself, kicked a stone, and rested his back against the slab of surprisingly smooth rock behind him.  
  
Ignoring the childish behaviour of his _adult_ son, Han dumped the pile of wood onto the ground and began to arrange it. The two stones he struck together were all be useless in creating a spark and in the end he resulted in once again using his ol’ reliable blaster to trigger a flame. Orange light flickered across the cavern walls as Han held his palms over the crackling heat. The fire felt hotter than expected, which meant he had been much colder than he realised. He figured it was all the adrenaline, not to mention Han had developed a surprising resistance to temperature from all his travels across the galaxy from cities coated in ice, to deserts hot enough to set alight flammable objects in direct sunlight. He was still on the chilly side, but unlike Kylo, he wasn’t shivering like an engine.   
  
“The fire isn’t going to move, you know?” Han casually mentioned. Like expected, Kylo proceeded to ignore him, pulling up his hood to hide the part of his face that Han could actually see. “Let me guess, you’d rather shiver in silence than shuffle any closer to me, huh?” The most reply he got out of his son was a bout of coughs that sounded a little on the raw side.   
  
“I thought so. You know, I’ve given up babying you, when you realise for yourself that you want help, you can come to me then.” Han said, now making it conscious effort to ignore his son despite how much his heart protested it. He needed a new tactic, every time he reached out, Kylo would pull further away like a frightened animal. It was time to let him bridge the gap. Han could only live in hope that he would, despite his doubts.   
  
Kylo grumbled to himself, adamant that he wouldn’t find himself in need of his father’s so called help. He had survived years without it and he wasn’t about to break the habit. Pulling his hood down a little further, Kylo buried his face in his hands, missing he comfort of his helmet that allowed him to mask his features, his emotions and his voice. He became almost inhuman, fooling others as much as he fooled himself. It was so much easier to be Kylo Ren when there was nothing of Ben visible or audible. It was torture, looking in a mirror and seeing the eyes of his mother and the face of a boy who once had a family.   
  
He had been subconsciously avoiding his father, putting off the confrontation for as long as he possibly could get away with it. He was afraid of being disappointed again, like the many times before, but he was also afraid of severing their bond entirely. It was in Han’s track record to find an excuse to not to play with him, to be too busy on an errand, to be too tired, giving the typical ‘I’ll play with you later’ brush off that always turned out to be a lie. Han would say that he loved him, but that must have been a lie, too, as if he did love him, he would have spent time with him and tried to understand him. But then again, Ben probably wasn’t the son that Han wanted, after all, they were nothing alike and shared no interests. He disliked the sorry state of the Falcon, never understood why Han kept around the walking carpet of a best friend, (who communicated in incoherent grunts and wails) nor did he find the idea of smuggling Bantha or other interchangeable foul smelling (or dangerous) creatures in the grimy depths of space to be a particularly appealing career choice. Maybe he was the problem after all, maybe Han just didn’t know how to interact with him. No. That was no excuse. He was his father and should have stepped up to be his father.   
  
The more he thought about this, the more he wished Vader was his father or was at least around, _he_ would have understood him, sympathised with his conflictions and inability to tame his raging emotions – he would have supported him. Han was always ignorant.   
  
Kylo closed his eyes, wanting nothing more than to turn off his brain. He wasn’t sure when it happened, but at some point he had managed to fall into a light snooze. A snooze that was abruptly cut short, as something big and heavy shook the ground, heading in his direction. Kylo’s eyes snapped open to meet the sight of the copious white fur of a huge beast with two trunks and six, long and slightly curled tusks that were sharp to the tip – all heading in his direction.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait, started MMO gaming -.-
> 
> Also I made a thing. For the extra feels.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T3oXaJCMM0Q  
> Vid to go with the fic! (ignore my crappy editing skills lol)
> 
> Also I know canonly Kylo Ren is 29, but the thought of that makes me just wanna facepalm so badly, he neither looks or acts anying older than a damn teenager, so for the sake of my sanity, I made him a little younger just so his actions feel a little more understandable because seriously, 29? Are you kidding me? Someone fucked up somewhere lol.


	4. Chapter 3

Kylo just about managed to scramble to his feet as a pair of rabid tusks swiped him in the chest, launching him to the side, and knocking the air out of him. The beast trumpeted, stomping its front feet on the ground, its hefty weight making small clusters of debris fall from the ceiling.   
  
“I’m sure you can handle this on your own, can’t you _Ren_?” Han remarked, safely out of the way of the beast, whose eyes were for some reason, set on Kylo alone. Maybe it just sensed him as a threat? After all animals had an extra sense that was almost akin to that of a Jedi and as Kylo had most certainly stated, he had taken lives for the sake of taking lives. Kylo growled at the uselessness of Han, which was nothing less than he expected, but found the level of mockery uncharacteristic of him and most certainly irritating. He raised a hand, calling forth the Force, shaking the stalagmites from above and coercing them to snap off and rain down as projectiles. Most lumps of pointed rock crumbled on contact with the creature’s thick skin, which only made it madder. Having associated Kylo with the falling spikes – to which one had jaggedly imbedded itself in its rear – the beast charged. Even if he had two workable legs, there was no way Kylo would have been able to move fast enough to avoid the trunks that coiled around his torso, pinning his arms to his sides and jerking him into the air. The muscular appendages constricted, quickly squeezing out the oxygen in his lungs. He gasped, struggling against the crushing weight around his chest, now knowing what it felt like to not be able to breathe.   
  
“S-Solo! Shoot it.” Kylo commanded, as if he was talking to a mere Stormtrooper. Black splotches were eating up his vision at an alarming rate and he could no longer feel his legs – or anything below his waist for that matter. Han didn’t respond to Kylo’s order. He was never one for taking commands like some foot soldier, and despite his internal turmoil of straight and utter panic, (which he was doing a tremendous job at hiding) Han wasn’t going to give his son the satisfaction of bossing him about. Han had told him how to get his help, he just had to say the words. Han clenched his jaw, hoping that Kylo would concede soon, before he chipped a tooth – or worse – the outcome that Han would rather not think about at all.   
  
Kylo continued to writhe, his face going more pallid than what Han thought was humanly possible. Despite his mental protest, the quick fading consciousness mixed with basic survival instincts kicked his senses into action and Kylo managed to force out a choked version of a plea.  
  
“Help me.”   
  
Before Kylo could even finish the last syllable, Han had pulled out his blaster and fired, having not even turned his head away from the glow of the fire. The laser hit the beast side in the head, burning through fur, flesh and skull, killing it instantly. The trunks slackened in grip as the beast fell onto its side, dropping Kylo in a heap onto the floor where he began coughing violently enough to grate his throat and run his voice hoarse. Dizzy and covered in pin-like sensations that scattered his whole body, Kylo lashed out at a nearby rock, punching it with all his strength. Weakness. It was hard to tell if the crack came from his hand or the new fracture in the rock, or maybe even both.   
  
“Do you have to do that? I’m pretty sure that your hand will always come worse off than the rock, unless you are really planning to get yourself a robotic hand just like your predecessors.” Han furrowed his eyebrows in concern, he would have much rather kept his son in one piece.   
  
“You took my lightsaber.” Kylo muttered, voice strangled. He wished he had it right now, swinging his saber around and destroying things with such ease, was surprisingly therapeutic, and helped to make him understand the power of anger – the second stage of emotion that lead to true Darkness.   
  
“So that’s how you vent, huh? You break things, including yourself? I know you’ve always had a temper on you…but it was never as bad as this.” Han always remembered how hard it used to be for Ben to control his rage, even the small things seemed to set off a much larger chain reaction. The only way he’d calm was through lashing out, throwing things, punching things, kicking things – Han used to hold up a pillow for Ben to punch, so he could let it out without hurting himself.  
  
“Anger is powerful and should be harnessed, Vader taught me that.” Kylo added, his voice slowly coming back to its full, deep glory.   
  
“Yes, but it’s like playing with fire, it’s messy, untameable and you don’t know who is going to get burnt.” Han had heard the story from Leia who heard it from Bail Organa after finding out the truth of her heritage, of Anakin and how he had strangled his beloved wife in rage and left her to die. The one person he was trying to protect, the one person he loved most.   
  
“Who cares?” Kylo shrugged, his indifference alarming.   
  
“I do.” Han stated, loudly. “Anger is a dark pit, _Ren._ It leads to far worse emotions – great – now I sound like your uncle.”

“I am aware of the possible repercussions, I am not a fool Han Solo.” Kylo said, rubbing his now throbbing knuckles. Another reason to wish he had his lightsaber with him, at least that way something wouldn’t hurt after lashing out.    
  
“You could have fooled me,” Han remarked, lounging back into his outstretched arms.  
  
“I fool everyone.” Kylo muttered, head down, staring at the floor. They were words that his brain hadn’t processed before they came out of his mouth.   
  
“What is that supposed to mean?” Han asked, assuming he wasn’t supposed to hear what had been spoken. Kylo simply grunted in reply with a look of self-scolding. After a few minutes of feeling jittery and retreating back to his rocky corner, Kylo lay down on his back and observed the cave ceiling and its natural structure, all the lines, cracks and bumps. The ground was cold, uneven and jagged, but the sound of the flickering flames and the pulsating glow of the fiery light across the stone surface was relaxing, especially as the darkness crept in from outside where the suns were setting. Before long, Kylo began to feel tired, feeling the weight of the day catch up with him and the cold devour his strength. Kylo rolled onto his side, clutching his arms against his chest and bringing his knees up to conserve what little warmth he had. He shivered himself to sleep.   
  
Han watched from beside the fire, how Kylo had purposely made an effort to turn his back to him. It wasn’t hard to tell when Kylo had managed to fall into slumber. He had always been a restless sleeper, tossing about, and tonight was no different. That was one thing he hadn’t grown out of, Han thought to himself.   
  
He used to check on him when he was a kid, every night he was available, usually from the days that he had been too caught up in his own world to have spent time with him. He always came in to the same image: Ben fast asleep, clutching at a pillow for warmth having kicked off his blankets during the night. Then his auto-pilot action would kick in Han would always collect the bundle off the floor (as well as Ben’s cherished stuffed Wookiee that Chewie had made him for when he was born out of sheer excitement of being an uncle – not out of his own hair though), cover him back up and tuck him in the best he could, so he wouldn’t kick the blanket off again. Before he would leave, he’d place a small kiss on his forehead and tussle his little black curls with a smile and a bid goodnight.   
  
An idea then sprung to mind and he pulled out a knife from his boot – it was just a precaution – and besides knives tended to come in handy for lots of little offhand tasks. Han stood up and made his way over to the fallen beast, glad that the thing didn’t have a nasty odour to it like that damn Tauntaun and began to slice it up, mentally commenting how a lightsaber would have made this job so much easier, and less messy.   
  
To distract himself, Han began to think more about Ben, occasionally glancing at him as he tossed and turned, having already gone from a tight ball to sprawled and kicking. He wondered what Kylo Ren did in his free time, when he wasn’t wreaking havoc, training with the Force or having his mind twisted by that Sith-spit Snoke. He couldn’t think of anything. He didn’t even know what Ben did in his own time, not for sure anyway. He supposed he had a lot of books in his room, some that would end up on his bedside table. But he never actually saw him read, nor did he even know what kind of books he was into. Ben used to spend a lot of his time in his room, at his desk, the desk that was stacked with paper (that often ended crumpled on the floor) and a load of pencils, rulers and other bits and pieces.  
  
Ben’s room tended to come in two variations: a complete and utter mess (which usually followed on from a particularly bad tantrum that was yet to be rectified) or pristinely clean and compulsively organised, by his own hand. His room back at home was still the exact same way that he left it: trashed, he had even torn the head off his mini Wookiee. That should have been the first sign that Ben really didn’t want to be shipped off to Luke. He wasn’t ready to be left alone. Han should have paid more attention to him, if he had been a better father then maybe he could have prevented Kylo from ever happening. Ben had been suffering the whole time, struggling with himself, and Han had never even seen it, despite all the signs. Kylo was right; Han didn’t miss his son, he barely made the effort to know him. He missed the idea of _having_ a son, and Ben was his son, not Kylo. But Kylo Ren was just a mask. Just like Darth Vader was the mask to Anakin Skywalker. He just had to remove it.   
  
Peeling off the last big heap of the creature’s fur-lined skin, Han used the snow around him to clean it up as best as he could before using the heat from the fire to dry it off. It was a pretty big piece of fur, enough to to make two small blankets or one big one. Han glanced at Kylo again, who even in his sleep, was still shivering. He needed the extra heat more than he did, especially with his restlessness. His son was more important, like he always should have been. The fire was enough to keep him warm.   
  
Han stood up with the newly made fur blanket in tow and knelt down beside the sleeping Kylo, now lying on his back with his head shifting from side to side at random intervals while he inadvertently elbowed the rock at his side. It was a little worrisome how that didn’t wake him up.   
  
“I think you’re making a bad habit of trying to beat up rocks, kid.” Han murmured, using the knife to cut off two long, thin strips of fur which he then folded over a couple of times. He placed one against the rock, to cushion the blow to his elbow and the other he slipped underneath Kylo’s head to use as a pillow. Finally, he spread the bulk of the fur across him, tucking it under him the best he could to lessen the chance of him escaping from its warmth. It eased Han’s mind when he saw the shivering die down and for Kylo to relax just a little. He couldn’t refrain from brushing back the stray ebony curls from his son’s forehead. His son was all grown up, and he had missed it happen. It was by far, the biggest mistake he had ever made.   
  
“I’m sorry, Ben. I should have been there for you, every single day, I really should have. I promise you I won’t fail again.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys are enjoying this...


	5. Chapter 4

The blizzard continued to rage outside when Kylo finally woke up, only to immediately wish afterwards, that he was still within the sweet embrace of slumber. He felt terrible. Exhausted. His nose was stuffed up, his throat sore and his chest ached with every icy breath that felt like a million needles stabbing him in the lungs. It took him a few moments to register that he wasn’t freezing cold; the way he had fallen asleep, and was instead bundled up in a cloak of fur. His eyebrows furrowed as he brushed a gloved hand across the strands of white. He sat up with a start, glancing towards the simmering fire and to the man who sat beside it, rubbing warmth into his arms.   
  
Apart from the half an hour nap he had forced himself to take, Han hadn’t slept; cautious of another attack from something that had already taken shelter within this vast cave. Han was used to functioning off minimal sleep (someone needed to pilot the ship when Chewie decided that he needed at least ten hours a night, damn demanding Wookiees). Poking the fire with a stick, watching a burst of embers sprinkle across the ground, Han waited to see if Kylo was going to speak. He didn’t. He just coughed, gritty and sore. Han couldn’t help but wince at the sound. He reached for his satchel and routed around for the flask that he had inside. It was better than nothing. He should have prepared better, but he really wasn’t the type to think ahead. After rummaging past a couple of nutrients bars that would come in handy later, and the odd bits and bobs he always carried around, he finally found the metal item. He had had this thing for so long that the metal coating on the outside had begun to rust. He should have probably invested in a new one.   
  
“Here.” He said, tossing the thing at Kylo. He didn’t catch it.   
  
“Reflexes are a little off huh, kid?” Han cracked a small grin. “You look awful.”   
  
“So do you.” Kylo commented, picking the thing up off the ground beside him and unscrewing the cap. He took a swig, almost choking on the flaming liquid. He wasn’t sure what he had expected. Han chuckled at the sight of his son, cringing. Funny how this was the first time had seen him taste alcohol, he never got chance to take him to a cantina.   
  
“Liquor, seriously?” Kylo glared at Han. He wasn’t all that fond of alcoholic beverages and Snoke most certainly didn’t approve of anything that clouded the mind.   
  
“Twi’lek liquor actually, the good stuff. What can I say, I have a stressful job.” Han shrugged, still amused. “And it stopped you coughing.” Kylo chucked the flask back at him. He at least had the courtesy to screw the cap back on first. Han took a sip himself, enjoying the warmth that seeped down his throat and into his stomach.   
  
“Is this your way of being kind to me?” Kylo referred to the fur blanket with a look of disdain. He was grateful for the warmth, but found it hard to accept that it was Han who put it there.   
  
“It’s simply an act of a father wanting to take care of his son, but if that somehow offends you, I will gladly take the fur back, I’m freezing my own ass off over here for you.”   
  
“You can have it.” Kylo unwrapped himself from the fur.  
  
“Whoa there, kid!” Han held his hand out an indication for him to stop. Kylo halted in movement and frowned. “I was joking. I might be cold but you need it more than I do, your voice sounds as stuffed up as it does when you wear that ridiculous helmet.”   
  
“It’s not ridiculous…” Kylo grumbled under his breath, grabbing the cowl around his neck and pulling it off. He threw it at Han.   
  
“The fire is dying, you’ll get cold.”   
  
“Is that your way of trying to be kind to your old man?” Han quirked an eyebrow, surprised at the thoughtfulness of Kylo – or should he say: Ben.   
  
“Freezing to death is a pitiful way to die, if you’re going to die, then it will be by my own hands, not by the cold.” Kylo replied, equalling out his act of kindness with verbal malice. 

“If a bounty hunter doesn’t get to me first that is,” Han remarked, wrapping himself up in the cowl – it felt weird to wear it. “I’ve still got quite the high price on my head.”   
  
“I’d say the price on mine is much greater than yours now. My death is worth much more than any figure of credits, my position within the First Order is near irreplaceable, I am a Knight of Ren – the best.” Kylo added. He wasn’t boasting his position, in fact he sounded disgraced; something that Han picked up on. Kylo was right though, he was the figure head of the First Order, the image that instilled terror and obedience across the galaxy. His death would bring a whole level of revolution to the Resistance. It frightened Han to think that his son was literally the person who opposed his wife, what he stood for, what was left of the goodness in universe. Killing his son would weaken the First Order immensely, disrupting Snoke’s plans and the intimidation of the ultimate power of the Force. Yes, they would still have the Stormtroopers, but they were just insignificant soldiers in a war, nothing that couldn’t be beaten by their own troops, troops that would rally to the Resistance’s aid after the defeat of Kylo Ren proved their conviction and strength.    
  
“Speaking of bounty hunters, do you remember that one on Kessel? That Trandoshan? You must have been what? Five?” Han said, quickly changing the conversation.   
  
“Six.” Kylo corrected. Han knew it was six, he just wanted to see if Kylo remembered.   
  
“You snuck onto the Falcon with the aid of Chewie, that damn deceitful fuzzball, before I left on one of my smuggle runs. I had no idea, though I should have worked out that something was up as Chewie kept taking ten minute bathroom breaks every half an hour.” Han said, remembering how he made Chewie be the Falcons personal janitor for the next month – the Millennium Falcon never looked so clean. “So, I landed on Kessel to pick up some spice, a run that I had done many times before, faster than any else, ever, breaking the record in–”  
  
“Fourteen parsecs, I know.” Kylo deadpanned.   
  
“Twelve.” Han corrected with a glower. Kylo knew it was twelve, he just wanted to irritate Han as it seemed to be his proudest, yet lamest achievement. “The job was going according to plan, we had gotten half the load onto the cargo bay when all of a sudden that Trandoshan hunter showed up, pointing a gun at my head while his goons pinned down Chewie. He said that I owed someone credits – which wasn’t exactly a shock to me. I wasn’t afraid, I had never been afraid of a blaster. Until I heard you shout the word ‘daddy’ as you ran out from the Falcon. I realised in that moment how I would have taken a thousand shots on the spot if it meant preventing you from getting hit once. For the first time in my life, I knew what it was like to be truly terrified.” Kylo looked almost embarrassed, his cheeks flushing a delicate pink. He could barely believe that he used to call Han Solo ‘daddy’ it felt almost ludicrous – not to mention the fact that he was almost positive that Han had no concept of the word _fear_ in the first place, never mind admitting to it.   
  
“You bolted, startling the Trandoshan as you smacked into his leg, right as he fired, knocking the trajectory of the blast way off. I had never moved faster after that, I tackled the guy to the ground, wrestled the blaster out of his hand, shot him, grabbed you and spun you away from the range of the others, took a shot to the shoulder while firing at three of the goons. I let Chewie take out the last one, didn’t want to make him feel too left out.”   
  
Kylo rolled his eyes at the last part. That whole ordeal had been a bit of a blur to him. It was odd to remember how much he cared at the time, the way he reacted out of instinct to want to protect his father, despite the stupidity of his actions. He hadn’t cared like that in a very long time, the feeling felt almost alienated from him.

“So I saved your life and all I got in return was a vicious scolding.” Kylo said in spite.   
  
“What was I supposed to do? You snuck onto my ship without my permission, put yourself in danger _and_ ran straight into the line of fire.” Han argued. His son could have been killed, his little boy could have _died._

“You made me cry,” Kylo uttered, the sharpness in his tone coming to an abrupt end.   
  
“I know. You made me cry too – and your mother – and even Chewie got upset. You had to understand, you are my son, Leia’s son, Chewie’s nephew, you are important, it was not your job to protect me; I should have been the one to protect you.” Han wanted to hug his son now more than ever, being reminded of that awful event and the scar of dread that it left behind. What Ben had done to himself now, was a million times worse than the events of that day.   
  
“So the great war hero, Han Solo admits he has cried.” Kylo mocked.   
  
“Yes. I have cried many times over you. The day I found out your mother was pregnant, the day you were born, the day you first called me dad, the day you took your first steps, the day you and your mother made me breakfast in bed for the first time, the day you told me how afraid you got when I would leave, the day you first hit something with a blaster–”  
  
“I remember that.” Kylo interrupted, afraid of how long this list would have been if he didn’t. “By something you meant mom’s Arallute flowers. I was terrible with a blaster. I wasn’t expecting the shot to bounce off the side of the can and onto her plants.”   
  
“The things went up in flames, but I took the blame for you. You might not be the best shooter ever, but you’re pretty good with a lightsaber and I also remember you being pretty good at crafting.” Han tugged out the cord around his neck, pulling out a miniature steel carving of the Millennium Falcon from behind the buttons of his shirt. Kylo’s eyes clouded at the sight of the piece of jewellery that was intricately engraved with all the small details of the ship. He remembered how long it had taken him and felt a sudden pain in his chest.   
  
“You were ten when you made this at this metal engraving booth on Coruscant. Leia was on business so we ended up spending the day together and ended up at this little event. I tried to carve you a self-portrait of me and your mother together, it was a little rubbish, your effort was so much better than mine, but it didn’t stop you from wearing it every day.” Han smiled. It was a little sad really, that was one of the few days they had actually spent together, just the two of them. “Hey, didn’t I leave a note on the back? What was it? To Ben Solo, the co-pilot of my life…” Han trailed off into thought, eyebrows furrowing.   
  
“Never let anyone tell you the odds to something you can definitely do.” Kylo finished, subconsciously pressing his own hand against neck. Snoke would never allow such a sentimental item on his being. Han was almost surprised at Kylo’s memory, he was sure he would have purposely made himself forget something that was associated with Ben and his life beforehand, especially as he made such an effort to convince him that Ben was gone.    
  
“Do you still have it?” Han knew it was a long shot to ask, but he was curious.   
  
“No.” Kylo lowered his hand swiftly. “I destroyed it long ago, that pendant belonged to Ben.”   
  
“I see.” The smuggler tried to mask his disappointment, replacing his own mini-Falcon back underneath his shirt to keep it safe. Kylo coughed again as he stretched out his legs, feeling his muscles start to ache from being sat for so long. He didn’t like being still, he liked to be doing things, keeping himself occupied, to help ignore the Light.   
  
“So, this was your plan Han Solo? To reminisce memories, in hope that they will somehow trigger a revelation inside me?” Kylo scoffed, forcing out the words with as much force as he could muster. He had to prevent himself from being seduced back, returning home would just implicate more pain, more confusion and more anguish. He wasn’t strong enough to deal with that, to turn away from the path he had long walked, to be disappointed again. “Those few memories are just a fraction of a whole. What is a good few memories compared to a lifetime of desertion?”   
  
“I know I wasn’t always there for you, I know I broke more promises than I could count. I never said I was a great father, in fact, I know I’ve been lousy, I know I’ve made mistakes but–”  
  
“But, let me guess, you’ve always loved me? Even now when I sit here in front of you; the Commander that supports the destruction of planets, genocide and a galaxy ruled by a leader whose purpose is to enslave.”   
  
“I will _always_ love you, whether you are Ben or are posing as Kylo Ren. You are my son. You will always be my son. There is no power in the galaxy that will change that fact, no matter how much you deny it.” Han declared, wondering how many times he was going to have to tell him before Kylo would finally believe it. Kylo felt another bout of anger boiling inside him. It was so easy for Han to say things, yet he was always all just talk, talking his way out of everything like the incompetent man he was.   
  
“Then why did you send me off to Luke, you and mother? Alone. Neither of you visited, you barely even wrote to me.” Kylo barked, balling his hands into fists.   
  
“Luke insisted that we stayed away, he thought it would be best for you to be separated, to cut emotional ties, to clear your mind. I disagreed with him, I should have fought harder against him. You are my son, not his.”  
  
“It ruined me.” Kylo snapped, shoulders tense and expression locked in a scowl. “I was always the odd one out, the son of two war heroes, the nephew to the great Luke Skywalker and the grandson to Darth Vader. The expectations were overwhelming, consuming, before I had even done anything I was being judged. The way the others looked at me, half in scorn and hatred for the fragments of Vader that lived within me, the other half in awe, the child born out of the purest light. As soon as they realised that I was not the hero or villain that had imagined, they began to disregard me; a pathetic failure.” Kylo felt the hatred for all of those Jedi, but it was misplaced. He was the one who was weak, he was the one he truly hated.   
  
“I struggled under the Jedi training. I couldn’t control my emotions no matter what I did; it was like a whirlwind inside me, tearing me to pieces. Every day I hurt, every day was filled with more pain and more isolation and an impending realisation that I was never going to be as great as my family. I was a terrible pilot, a terrible mechanic, a terrible leader, I wasn’t even cut out to be a Jedi either. I wasn’t like Luke, I wasn’t like Leia and I most certainly wasn’t like you.” Kylo poured out his feelings, unable to keep them bottled up for any longer. Han’s constant attacks were shattering his protective glass. Clutching the fur between white-pressed knuckles, Kylo found it near impossible to catch his rapid breath. All these feelings were going to kill him, he was sure of it.   
  
“We never wanted you to be like any of us,” Han felt his insides tear at the sight of his shattering child. He had well and truly failed as a parent. “We wanted you to be you, whatever that would have been.”   
  
“A monster.” Kylo muttered, burning out the rest of his rage, leaving nothing but the ashes.   
  
“That’s now what I see when I look at you.” Han reassured, finally seeing the armour chip away. He was finally speaking to Ben.   
  
“Then what you do see?” Kylo slowly raised his head and looked straight at Han. His brown eyes foggy, haunted by every second of life and scarred with every slice of pain that he had inflicted on others and himself.   
  
“A scared child, backed into a corner, afraid to seek help, afraid that he doesn’t deserve help.” Han caught his gaze, locking their agony together.    
  
“Does he deserve help?”   
  
“Of course he does…but only if he wants it.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol guess who ended up catching the norovirus? xD 
> 
> Words of advice: Do not order a takeaway hours before you get sick. You'll thank me later. 
> 
> I should make Kylo sick now...just so he can suffer as well.


	6. Chapter 5

A couple of hours went by with nothing but the sound of sizzling embers and frequent coughing fits. Kylo had taken to using the Force to float a couple of small rocks around his hand, occasionally firing one at the rocky side, just to watch it splinter. He had forced himself into total silence, needing to recover from his outburst – which despite every inch of him denying – lightened the burden. He was glad that Han had left him alone, instead focusing on polishing his blaster way past the point of shining, and every so often taking another sip of the Twi’lek liquor.  
  
The wall of white at the entrance was yet to move, blowing in flecks of ice that was quickly coating the ground and building up into a small mound. With the fire dying down and the cold setting in, their options were not-so-steadily growing thinner and Han knew he needed to do something soon.   
  
Rocks clattered to the ground as Kylo became distracted by the imminent nausea. He grabbed his head and closed his eyes to try and fight off the thumping inside his skull while struggling to regulate his breathing. He was both cold and hot at the same time and it was driving him crazy, unable to settle.  
  
“We need more firewood, this place is going to get much colder without a fire and I don’t think you can cope with much colder.” Han said, finding his impatience for the storm growing with every minute. Kylo had already turned down the offer of food, claiming a lack of hunger, which was obviously a load of Bantha crap as Han had more than clearly seen him retch at the thought of food, despite his effort to hide it.   
  
“I’m not as weak as you think,” Kylo added, not that he was actually sure where he measured on the scale anymore. He had always convinced himself he was strong, a lie that he had fed himself and Snoke had reiterated. But then he came across that scavenger and she got into his head and shattered every falsehood that he had created.   
  
“I never said you were, but even one as powerful as you can succumb to a chill now and then. Even Chewie has caught a cold a couple of times, which is impressive as the hair he sheds alone on a daily basis is enough to make a coat.”  
  
“That’s disgusting.” Kylo scrunched up his nose.   
  
“Well you didn’t seem to think so when you were a toddler and liked to use Chewie as your own personal stuffed toy to snuggle up with.” Han chuckled, remembering the way Ben would cling to Chewie’s leg until the Wookiee would pick him up.  
  
“Don’t remind me.” Kylo rolled his eyes. He couldn’t be judged on the things he did when he was no more than three years old.

With the wood only spitting out embers, Han got to his feet and stretched out his back and shoulders, unsure if it was the cold or his age that had his muscles so stiff. He pulled up the hood on the cowl and pulled it tighter across his neck.  
  
“What are you doing?” Kylo frowned. It wasn’t of question of what but why.   
  
“Well that fire ain’t gonna find more wood for itself, it shouldn’t take too long as there are plenty of trees around here.” Han answered, glancing out into the storm, inwardly complaining about how much he hated this idea.   
  
“You won’t be able to see out there, let me come with you, I can keep the snow away.” Kylo made an attempt to stand, having once again forgotten the sorry state of his ankle.   
  
“No, no way.” Han shook his head. “There is not a chance in the kriffing galaxy that I’m letting you go anywhere, even if I have to break your other leg. You are sick and for once I am going to do the fatherly thing and make sure you don’t get any worse, so you’re gonna sit your ass down, wrap yourself up warm and wait for me to get back.”  
  
Kylo opened his mouth to argue, but was quickly silenced by Han snapping, reminding him what it felt like to be a child quite vividly. He shrunk back down. For some reason, it almost made him smile, as for that one small moment everything felt so simple. Like when the worst thing he would have to worry about, was where he was going to hide his vegetables.   
  
After that, Han disappeared into the ashen veil, leaving Kylo alone to his thoughts. It only took five minutes for Kylo to start getting paranoid. Afraid of being left alone, afraid of being with his own mind, afraid of the torment he could put himself through. The worry was cut short as his lungs began to spasm, crushing the breath out of him and leaving black spots in his vision. Hunched over, Kylo clutched at the fabric at his chest. Up until now, he had been stuck in limbo. He didn’t particularly want to live, but he didn’t want to die either, thus he was stuck in the process of just simply surviving. But it was in this moment he realised how afraid of the prospect of death he really was, the finality of it, of how the choice was quickly being taken out of his hands. The burning ice inside his torso spread rapidly to his head, brandishing everything white.   
_  
White turned to black, then black began to take shape. Blue-silver rays from a fissure in the ceiling lit up the intimidating throne below, and the even more intimidating figure sat upon it. With grey skin and a disfigured face burnished with scars, Snoke was the depiction of unnerving.  
"  
Kylo Ren.” Snoke’s voice carried like a hurricane, quaking the particles in the air. Kylo felt the tremors all the way down to his feet, feet which were frozen to the ground. Kylo looked up at the monstrous visage of the Supreme Leader, pressing his fisted hands against his back to straighten out his posture and to hide his trembling hands.   
Master.” Kylo lightly bowed his head in response. He wished he had his helmet.   
  
"You are getting weak, Kylo Ren. You are allowing yourself to be seduced.” Snoke pointed a long, bony figure accusingly at his apprentice.   
  
“I am not.” Kylo protested, barring his teeth in a forced predatory scowl.   
  
“Don’t lie to me Knight of Ren, I can see inside your mind.” Snoke held up a hand, Kylo felt the sharp agony of his own skull being penetrated and his mind crushed by the Force. He crumpled to his knees, watching his hands against the ground fuzzing in and out of existence. He tried to push him out, but Snoke kept drilling further, bypassing every defence Kylo could muster, with ease. “The Light, it burns within you, you are questioning where your allegiance lies; you are being seduced by the wretched Han Solo and his lies. I will not be betrayed Kylo Ren, especially not by my own apprentice.”   
  
“I would not betray you!” Kylo yelled, arms barely able to support holding up his body. Snoke’s fingers extended and so did the weight upon Kylo’s mind. He dropped to his elbows.  
  
“Then kill Han Solo. Return to me. Free yourself of this pain forever, become one with the Dark Side and follow in your grandfather’s footsteps. Return this galaxy to its former glory and rule by my side. Tell me you can do it. Tell me.” Snoke rumbled, lacing his words with a not-so-subtle threat. The words were repeated over and over in Kylo’s mind, reverberating deep within his deepest recesses, flashing him images of that moment in Starkiller base. Kylo had no control over his hand as he forced down the ignition and the flaming red saber speared his father in the chest. Han’s horrified face burnt into his memory. The sheer, unrelenting dread of never being able to see his father again, despite his hate, was worse than unbearable. Then it replayed. And replayed. And replayed.   
  
“Tell me.”  
  
His father’s eyes filled with betrayal.  
  
"Tell me.”  
  
His father tumbled down the metal abyss.  
  
"Tell me.”  
  
His father was dead.   
  
“Stop! I can’t do it!” Kylo howled, beating his fists against the ground. The pressure inside his head released and Kylo suddenly feared the worst. Breathing heavy, he forced himself to look up at the looming figure that stared down at him. He couldn’t read his expression. Mustering up the last of his dignity, Kylo coerced himself to his feet to face whatever punishment he knew was coming.   
  
“You have failed me Kylo Ren. But I will not forsake my plan, I will not lose control of my most vital weapon. You will obey me, one way or another.” Snoke boomed, raising his hand once more.   
_  
Covered in a layer of ice, Han traipsed back into the cave, kicking off the caked snow from his boots, glad of the hood on Kylo’s cowl that had protected his face and ears from the worst part of the blizzard.   
  
“Told ya I wouldn’t be long.” Han said finally looked up from his stooped position. He dropped the branches and darted across the cave, sinking into a crouch. Kylo was past the point of restless, thrashing and crying out in his sleep.  
  
“Ben.” Han grabbed his son’s shoulders and gently shook him, desperate to save him from whatever monster his subconscious has conjured up. He hadn’t seen Ben have a nightmare since he was a child. “Ben, wake up, it’s just a dream.”  
  
Brown eyes shot open as Kylo sat up, impulsively using the Force to knock back Han, straight into the cave wall with a loud crack. Panicked and hyperventilating, Kylo felt the clutches of Snoke still hooked into his mind and his forewarning words echoing in his ears. He had reached a whole new level of fear, one that even he couldn’t hide behind a mask with.   
  
Rubbing his now sore head, Han returned to his feet. He wanted to approach his kid, to comfort him, but somehow he knew that doing so would only end violently. Kylo was showing the weakness he had made a desperate attempt to cover and he was more now more vulnerable than he had ever been.   
  
“And I thought waking your mother up from her sleep was dangerous.” Han joked, a way to tell his son that he was there if he so needed him. He dumped a few more branches on the fading fire, sparking new life into it, and brushed off the remaining sprinkles of snow. Kylo buried his face behind his hands, finding it impossible to get Snoke’s voice out of his head, the feel of him constantly breathing down his neck and scrutinising his every move. He was isolated, his own mind now a dangerous mine field.   
  
Kylo did the first thing he could think of and retreated to safety. Safety which would have usually involved his quarters on his shuttle, but right now meant the warmth of a fire and inadvertently the close presence of his father. Ignoring whatever argument he could evoke, too tired to care anymore, Kylo shuffled over, trying to remain impartial to his feelings while dragging the blanket of fur along with him. Han raised an eyebrow as Kylo perched himself next to him, just a few inches apart. Using his teeth to pull off one of his gloves, Kylo then held his palm over the fire, (a little too close for Han’s comfort) to enjoy the heat and the slight burning sensation against his skin. His hand was drawn back to cover his mouth as another attack of coughs wracked his entire body.      
  
Han took a chance and placed his hand across his son’s back. When he wasn’t instantly rejected, he began to rub soft circles to try and soothe Kylo’s discomfort. It took a while, but he eventually began to settle and Han once again dug out his liquor filled flask. Kylo didn’t think twice before taking the bottle off him and downing down half the remaining contents.  
  
“Whoa there, kid. That stuff is strong, drink it that fast and it’ll get you wasted before you can even say ‘stuck-up, half-witted, scruffy-looking Nerf herder.’” Han grabbed Kylo’s hand and pulled it down before he could take another gulp. So what if Snoke didn’t approve of alcohol? What was he going to do? Kill him?   
  
“That was the plan.” Kylo grunted, not fighting against Han as he took the flask away from him, inspecting what was left looking both impressed and disheartened. Like Han had warned, Kylo’s mind quickly fogged up and the world around him began to fuzz around the edges. This stuff really was potent.   
  
“Now you sound like me,” Han almost grinned, replacing the flask back in his satchel.   
  
“I wish I was like you…it would have been so much easier.” Kylo muttered, fiddling with the remaining glove on his hand. He shifted uncomfortably, staring at the floor.  
  
“Why do you say that?” Han ducked his head forward to try and read Kylo’s expression.   
  
“If I were like you then maybe we would have gotten along better.” Kylo almost sighed, thinking about all the missed opportunities. He could have been Han Solo’s protégé, they could have gone on jobs together, had each other’s backs, and flown the Falcon as father and son. But instead he was the outcast – more like the grandfather he would never meet, only hear about.  
  
“Ben…” Han circled his arm around his son’s shoulders and pulled him closer. Kylo didn’t protest, in fact, he gave in, laying his head on Han’s shoulder and closing his eyes, just to pretend that for moment, one _singular_ moment, he could go back in time and be a child: Han’s child. The Smuggler was astounded. This was the first time, Kylo had openly accepted his affection and even sought it out for himself. Han’s hand trailed upwards to thread his fingers into those black curls, softly tousling them. “I’m so sorry. Failing you is by far my worst failure. I have no excuses.”  
  
“Neither do I.” Kylo uttered, enjoying the nostalgic sensation of having his hair played with. Leia used to do it when he was little. He would lie his head on her lap whenever he was tired, sick or just feeling down and she would comb her gentle fingers through his hair, telling him stories about the bravery of the Rebel Alliance or sometimes just the misadventures of Han Solo. “I was a fool to follow Snoke, to believe that I could have bettered myself through his teachings.”  
  
“You were young.” Han argued.   
  
“That’s not an excuse and you know it. I was angry and alone and he gave me a purpose, told me he needed me and could teach me how to become powerful, to live up to the name of my family. He said I was important and could change the fate of the galaxy, make it better, end the fight for power once and for all. By the time I realised when he actually meant, it was too late, I was in too deep, unable to escape and too afraid to try.” Kylo admitted, ashamed of his own fear. Snoke was charming to start with, drawing him in with all the words that he craved to hear. Only to turn menacing and malicious within a snap, promising a fate worse than death for anyone who betrayed him. “Then I heard grandfather…in my head.”  
  
“Vader? As in Darth Vader?” Han’s eyebrows furrowed far enough to leave wrinkles across the bridge of his nose. Vader was long dead. Kylo half nodded, trying not to move too much, he didn’t want to break the contact nor the fantasy.   
  
“He told me about the Dark Side and how he was seduced by it, how it ruined his life and isolated him from everything that once made him happy. He warned me what I would become if I followed in his footsteps. But I was already trapped, there was nowhere in the galaxy I could run without Snoke finding me. He saw my potential, the new Vader, to strike fear in the galaxy just like he had done before me. People would remember that and would bow down. So he said if I couldn’t run then I’d have to fight…” Kylo explained, voice dipping into just a whisper.   
  
“To fight?” Han frowned, mentally throwing as many curses as he could at the late Darth Vader who had given his son the most reckless piece of advice he could have conjured up. Han had always hated what Vader had done and what he stood for, but it had never truly affected him on a personal level, until now.   
  
“He said I was the descendant of two of the most powerful Jedi the galaxy had ever seen, him and Luke. That I had the power inside me to be as great as him, to finally finish off what he had started, once and for all: to bring balance back into the Force, his final act as a Skywalker before he died.” Kylo clutched at his trousers, crumpling fabric between taut fingers, enough to cause pain.  
  
“You planned on killing Snoke yourself?” Han wasn’t sure whether to be impressed by his son’s audacity or damn right afraid.

“I thought I could do it. I got close to Snoke, earnt his trust, did all the cruel things he ordered me to do without question, to show him I was capable of giving myself to the Darkness. Then I realised I wasn’t strong enough, that I would _never_ be strong enough, not like Vader.” Kylo took a long breath, feeling the stir of agony burn within him once more. Every pull to the light brought back the vivid memories and the torture of blame and responsibility. “Every deed I commit started to pile up, like this burden that I could never escape from. Every night I would be consumed by the Darkness, tormented by the lives I had taken…the only way I could stop it from hurting was to pledge myself to the Dark Side, to become Kylo Ren – indifferent to the suffering I caused others, guilt free and cold. Because of it, I became deluded by Snoke’s ideals, every deed I commit became easier and easier to do and soon I felt powerful, the one in control of the lives of others, to be able to strike fear in people in their very core, there was nothing like it.”   
  
Han was left speechless at his son’s confession, starting to finally understand the complex mind of his own child, twenty-four years too late. It struck him, the honesty of Kylo and his true feelings for the Dark Side and how entranced he was by it. It didn’t matter how he looked at it, his son was definitely like Vader – power hungry and plagued. His own worst enemy was himself, just like his grandfather before him.   
  
“For the most part I thought as Kylo Ren I had truly destroyed Ben, but the call to the Light would return on occasion, reminding me what a monster I had truly become.” Out of all the times he had referred to himself as a monster, he had never believed it as much as he did now. The pull to the Light had never been stronger.   
  
“No.” Han held his son tighter, feeling compelled to kiss him on the head. “Snoke is the monster, you were born into the Light, seduced by the Dark. This is not the end, there is still Light left in you and there always will be. The Light of my son, Ben Solo.”   
  
“Your love is for Ben, not for me. I will never be the son you once had. I am tainted, corrupt.” Kylo pulled himself away from Han and shook his head, demeanour pitiful and lost. It was all pointless, pouring out his feelings like this with the ludicrous delusion of somehow being forgiven, or at least to be shown mercy.   
  
“Bantha fodder.” Han grasped hold of Kylo’s sharp jaw and turned his head to face him directly. “When I look at you, I see the exact same eyes that I saw the moment you first looked at me all those years ago. Ben is in there, I know it. Your mother knows it.”   
  
“I can’t go back.”   
  
“You can try.” His words were sharp, tone sharper. “We miss you more than anything in the galaxy. I know it’s selfish of me, especially as I can overlook the worst of you, where others would condemn you. You’ve made more than a few mistakes, you’ve commit terrible crimes, but I believe that you deserve a chance at redemption. Even Vader managed it in the end. You could do so much good returning to the Light, you could join the Resistance; we can stop Snoke together, as a family.”  
  
“There is no stopping the Supreme Leader. He is too powerful.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyya again, thanks so much for all the kudos so far and the comments, you have no idea how much I appreciate each and every one. YOu guys are the best :3


	7. Chapter 6

Reflecting the crystalline light from the double suns, the teal moon shone through the spaces of frost, adorning star like twinkles across the stone cavern floor. Han had long since fallen asleep with his back against the rocky wall, arms crossed against his torso and head lulled slightly to the side. Kylo however, was wide awake, simply by the sheer force of his own will. He was afraid to sleep. Afraid of the hauntings he knew would come for him after closing his eyes. His revelation would open him to memories that were better left consigned to oblivion. But worse, there was Snoke, the being who could worm his way into his head, to his deepest darkest depths and pull out everything, everything that sought to destroy him and use it as a weapon and leave nothing but an eradicated shell.  
  
Kylo raked his fingers through his hair, yanking out more than a couple of strands in the process. He stifled a cough with the back of his hand, glancing at his father whose face was lined with exhaustion and worry well beyond his years. Becoming a father had really taken its toll on him, physically and mentally, the carefree man he once was, was now no longer visible at all.  
  
The shredding in his chest made it hard to breathe, it wasn’t the cold or the fact that he was sick that made it so hard for him to respire, but the overwhelming surge of devastation. Just being around Han Solo was eating him up from inside, burning like acid, a pain that would never go away.               
  
Kylo raised his hand, aiming his potential influence at Han’s throat – it would be so easy to strangle him in his sleep, to kill him before he could open his eyes, before he could witness the horror and harsh reality of the beast his son had become. It would be a quick motion. One that would forever end his suffering and kill and bury Ben Solo forever. He could return to Snoke as Kylo Ren, having purged what was left of the Light, all sentiments and emotions other than those empowered by the Dark Side. Snoke would accept his new devotion and forgive him for his mistake. He would be free of this pain. It would be so easy.  
  
His hand shook.  
  
Han grunted in his sleep and changed position. Kylo grabbed hold of his wrist to try and keep it steady, steady and directed at Han Solo’s neck. It _still_ shook. He couldn’t invoke the Force to do his bidding. The energy was there, around him, he could feel it, like little tingles against his skin that burrowed deep inside. But, without the resolve, it was useless. With a sullen exhale, he let his arms go limp, letting them dangle lifelessly at his sides. He had failed at killing Han Solo. He would always fail at killing Han Solo. His whole life was just one failure after another. Luke, Leia, Han, Vader and now Snoke.

The Resistance would never accept Kylo Ren joining their ranks. He would destroy Han and Leia’s reputation every time they vouched for him and they would lose their respect. It would tear the Resistance up from the inside – the only threat against the ultimate rule of the First Order. He couldn’t allow that.  
  
The First Order would take him back, simply because Snoke needed a puppet who was Force sensitive. Every Master needed an Apprentice to follow in their footsteps. Snoke would be furious with him though and that wouldn’t go unpunished. His inability to kill Han Solo had not gone unnoticed by the Supreme Leader and he knew he would have to go through more vigorous training to try and extinguish the lingering remnants of Ben Solo. This was inevitable. Snoke had his hooks in him, had done for a very long time. It was part of his training to link his mind with Snoke’s so he could always observe his actions and communicate, like his own personal security camera.  
  
Kylo didn’t want to go back. There was no way he could recover from this experience. The Light had burrowed back inside him, deeper than ever before. He remembered. Remembered what it was like to have a family, to be cherished, loved unconditionally, and be important, without having to earn it. Maybe he was more like Vader than he realised. With his inability to kill his own family, the path to true Darkness would forever remain obstructed. If he went back, he would continue to suffer for eternity, a fate so unbearable that he’d rather not have a future at all.  
  
There was only one way out. A way that would hinder the First Order and bring a new hope to the Resistance. It was a cowardly choice and he knew it, but with his options dwindling as time passed with Snoke honing in on his location, there was nothing more he could do. Shrugging off the warmth of the fur, Kylo dragged himself to his feet, using the cavern wall for support, as even the slightest bit of pressure on his broken ankle sent flashes of white, sharp pain up his leg. His muscles were weak, heavy, and his lungs felt gritty and congested. Even he knew it wouldn’t take much to finish him off in this state. The blazing clumps of snow were still pelting down with force and already, Kylo began to feel the chill tunnel through the fabric of his clothes and bore into his skin. He wrapped his arms around himself and limped towards the cave mouth and onwards, squinting as the frozen flakes flew into his eyes.  
  
“Don’t you dare, Ben.”  
  
Kylo mentally cursed as the sound of his father’s voice resonated through the storm. He froze in movement, dipping his head and holding himself tighter.  
  
“Why not?” He uttered. What other choice did he have? The First Order would be looking for him, his freedom was indefinite and once they found him – there was no way he and Han Solo alone could take out a squadron of Stormtroopers. Han would be killed on the spot. Kylo wasn’t going to sit back and watch someone else shoot his father down, if he couldn’t do it, then no one else was claiming that credit.  
  
“Because I’ve only just got you back, there is no way I’m letting you go again. Ever.” Han reached out and touched his son on the shoulder. Kylo flinched. With his whole body beginning to quake and his eyes stinging from the tears that instantly froze up in the corners of his eyes, Kylo spun back around. His cheeks burnt red and his lips quivered, showing his barred teeth.  
  
“I can’t live like this, every day is a war, a war with no end! I haven’t got the strength to kill you and give myself to the Dark, nor do I have the strength to turn away from it.” Kylo grabbed two fistfuls of his hair and yanked. “The Light burns inside me, too far out of reach, every moment I spent with Snoke dragged me further and further away. I am imprisoned, I will always be imprisoned, broken and in agony. I can’t go on like this. Please let me end it.”  
  
“No.” Han simply said. How he managed to keep a straight face was beyond his understanding when all he was doing inside was crumbling. No father should ever have to bear witness to their child in enough pain for them to choose death to escape from life.  
  
“But why not!?” Kylo yelled, collapsing to his knees and jamming closed fists into a pile of snow, watching the heat from his tears instantly melt the patches of slush they touched. He couldn’t remember the last time he had cried, at how unrelenting it felt and at the same time how therapeutic. Han was quick to act, dropping to his own knees and wrapping his arms around his son’s slender frame and rubbing soothing circles across his back.  
  
“Shhh, Ben it’s ok, everything will be alright.” For the first time, Kylo hugged back, clutching at the fabric of his father’s jacket and burying his face against his shoulder, wracking with sob induced tremors. He had ruined his own life because he was naïve and stupid and made it worse because he was weak and afraid. The mess he had created of himself was all his own doing, he couldn’t blame his father, or his mother or even Snoke for his own decisions.  
  
“No it won’t. It will never be alright.” Kylo murmured. At this moment he would have given anything to go back and prevent himself from making the worst mistake of his life. He would have given anything to see his mother every morning and have her smile and scold him for all his rebelliousness. He would have given anything to travel with Han and Chewie on the Millennium Falcon. Han grabbed his son’s shoulders and pulled him away so he could look at him properly.  
  
“Yes it will be.” Han reassured, cupping Kylo’s face and wiping away the rivulet of tears across his cheeks with his thumbs. “You can return to the Light, come back to me, come back to your mother, it’s not too late. Trust me. Just come back. Please. I want you back. I _need_ you back.”  
  
“You’re crying too…” Kylo’s eyebrow furrowed. This was the first time his father had ever shed tears in front of him, proving real the stories he had told him. Kylo knew words came easy to Han, he was a liar, a cheater and a thief, so he could easily concoct a lie to tell someone what they wanted to hear, but displaying emotion was something he kept hidden. The fact that Han was openly revealing his sorrow meant one thing: he truly, deeply cared. That thought alone made the Light inside Kylo much brighter, visible and potentially reachable.  
  
He wanted to go home.  
  
“Can you help me, father?” Kylo looked at his father, full of anticipation.  
  
“Yes. Anything.” Han smiled, feeling the warmth of his title being uttered by his child for the first time in well over a decade. Kylo bit his lip, knowing that once he spoke the words that itched the tip of his tongue there was truly no going back.  
  
“I…I want to be Ben again…will you help me?” He glanced away, terrified that his father would now turn him down. It was an irrational thought, but he had been let down so often.  
  
“Of course.” Han’s smile widened exponentially, filling with the same level of relief as the day Ben was born and he was told that both his wife and son were happy and healthy. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to say those words and to accept me as your father once again.” Kylo almost managed a smile as Han brushed back the fallen locks out of his face, his eyebrows suddenly creasing with concern. Han pressed the back of his fingers against Ben’s forehead, grimacing at the fact that his skin was painfully cold to touch.  
  
“You’re freezing up there kid. We’re going to have to find a way to get some more heat into you soon.” Han said, helping his son back to his feet. Ben succumbed to another fit of coughs as Han lead him back inside to the shelter of the cave and struggled to facilitate his legs into sitting back down, muscles cramped and frozen.  
  
“When I went out looking for firewood, I spotted something that looked to me like a building off in the near distance, I bet we could reach it when the storm dies down.” Han tousled the icy flakes out Ben’s black curls and submerged him back within the clutches of the fur. It was easy for him to slip back into parental auto-pilot, just being called father sparked back years of instinct and affection for his and Leia’s creation.  
  
“That sounds like a plan…” Ben said hoarsely, massaging his neck. A surge of black unexpectedly swims across his vision.  
  
“Whoa there,” Han dropped to a knee to catch his semi-conscious son as he fell backwards. The jolt seemed to startle Ben into awareness as he groaned and tenderly held his head. “Maybe you should rest some more?”  
  
“I’ll just…lie down for a while.” Ben sighed, he didn’t want to sleep but the thought of sitting upright for another moment was excruciatingly nauseating.  
  
“Here.” Han sat down with his legs crossed and gently guided Ben into laying his head across his lap. It felt strange at first, but once Han began to comb his hair over his ear with loving fingers the comfort quickly overshadowed the unease. “Now just relax. I know I’m not as delicate as your mother, but I hope I’ll suffice.” Ben settled almost instantly. Maybe if his future was filled with moments like this, maybe, just maybe he might be able to get through it.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyy guys!
> 
> I updated my video with HD clips, go see for the extra feels!  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uTChrie-QZQ


	8. Chapter 7

A few hours went by with nothing but the sound of Ben’s increasingly ragged breaths and the howling wind to accompany it. The storm had died down to just fluttering wisps, it wasn’t entirely a safe bet, but with Ben who had stopped shivering completely, Han knew they had to move soon or risk worse consequences. It didn’t take a medical genius to notice the signs of hypothermia when he saw them. There were some things that even the Force couldn’t prevent.    
  
“Hey…Ben.” Han softly tapped his son on the shoulder. He mumbled an incoherent reply before taking a particularly sharp breath, almost choking on it. Han quickly helped him sit up straight, to ease the flow of the trapped oxygen.   
  
“I’m ok…” Ben ever so slightly slurred. He wasn’t quite sure what he was referring to (as he was far from ok) but the response was instinctual and right now the pitiable state of his wellbeing had more than eclipsed the psychological problems he had.   
  
“Yeah you sound it, kiddo.” Han half joked, trying to keep the tone light to avoid him worrying. The fact was: he had just got his son back and yet he was just as close to losing him again, this time forever. “The blizzard finally seems to be settling down, I think it’s about time we get our asses out of this cave.”   
  
“I’ve never really liked caves,” Ben said, agreeing with his father for once. He wanted out as much as Han did. Ben was never a fan of dingy looking places, which included the Falcon – much to his dismay – in that respect he was much more like his mother. He unravelled himself from the fur, reaching out for the discarded glove his left lying on the ground next to the fire. The tips of his bare fingers were of a bluish shade and ached to bend and thus he struggled even with his jittery covered hand to replace the piece of leather.  
  
“Do you need any help?” Han offered, trying to make it sound casual, to not offend the delicate disposition of his son.   
  
“I got this.” Ben replied, determined. His determination however, took a quick turn into frustration after a few measly seconds of utter failure. Han watched with a slightly arched eyebrow at the deepening frown lines across Ben’s forehead and the slight curl of a snarl in his lips. Han gave him another ten seconds before he snapped. It took only eight. Ben crushed the glove and slammed it on the ground with a feral growl.   
  
“Ok stubborn, give it here.” Han picked up the item after Ben let it go and motioned for him to hold out his hand. Ben almost pouted as he grudgingly let his father dress him (also giving him back his singed cowl), finding a whole new level of loathing for the cold. Thankfully, no one else could see this pathetic scene.   
  
After that, Han slung one of Ben’s arms over his shoulders and helped him to his feet, replacing the blanket of fur across them both. They then headed out. Despite their slow pace, they made ground, and soon enough the cave was left in the distance, hopefully to never be seen again. The sound of snow crunching beneath sodden boots became monotonous and so did the whistling of the icy wind as it whipped past stinging ears (Ben was once again thankful for the hood of his cowl), even Han had gotten bored of the sound of his blaster every time he marked another tree, just to make damn well sure they wouldn’t end up going in a circle.   
  
Beyond the mass of ivory trees came a clearing, a sight that both Han and Ben were more than delighted to see…until the came to the cliff edge.   
  
“Great…” Han rolled his eyes, looking down as a few small stones rolled off the edge of the very steep crag. In the distance, Han spotted the vast framework of a set of buildings that looked almost like an outpost. But to get to it, meant a precarious climb down or a long trek around the side, hopefully to a less steep decline.    
  
“What do you reckon hey kid, shall we jump it?” Han cracked a grin. Ben swiftly turned to look behind them, right as a creature with gigantic antlers crashed into a tree trunk in a berserk sprint, snapping the wood in half, before continuing to charge right at them. Han had just about managed to push Ben out of the way before the thing slammed right into him, knocking both him and the creature over the precipice.  
  
“Father!” Ben shouted, scrambling over to the edge, shedding the fur entirely, to watch as the six-legged creature regained it’s footing after falling into a mound of snow. The wave of relief he felt when he saw Han unearth himself from the pile as well was short lived, as antlers once again struck him, knocking him to the down while hooves kicked him across the ground. Feeling the rush of adrenaline, Ben was up and standing within seconds. He glanced downwards, trying to figure how far of a drop it would be, wondering whether or not he had the capacity at present to mitigate the landing with the Force. Deciding there wasn’t much time to ponder the aspect, Ben closed his eyes, let out a calming breath, and jumped. Air rushed past and fabric rippled, then Ben’s feet hit the ground, barely sinking into the snow and barely leaving an impact in his muscles.   
  
Ben saw Han attempting to wrestle the jagged antlers off of him and picked up a small rock, aimed, and then launched it at the creature’s rear. Its head bobbed up. Startled glossy black eyes turned in his direction. Ears swatted the air and the creature bolted at its new target. Ben outstretched his hand, his eyes narrow and full of concentration, as he called upon the Force. The deer-like creature slowed, but tried to power through the gush of energy that pushed it back. Hooves dug into snow, sinking and kicking, just about managing to fight back.   
  
Han propped himself up onto his elbows, supporting multiple bruises and an aching back, while he surveyed the battle of willpower between his son and the six foot tall antlered beast. Ben caught the creature’s gaze and enforced his way into the things mind, feeling nothing but overwhelming fear inside it. The creature stilled. An image of smaller creatures entered Ben’s mind, like the one before him but without the antlers and far more fuzzy. It was protecting its young, afraid of a human threat that it had seen before. The sound of a blaster shot rung in his skull alongside a vivid image of a crimson river flowing through white.   
  
To Han’s surprise, the creature calmed, then turned and walked off. The muscles in Ben’s arm gave out and flopped beside him, followed shortly by his legs which refused to hold his weight any longer. Dizzy and drained, Ben slumped forwards onto his hands, hands that barely supported him at all and would more than likely give out in mere seconds.   
    
“Ben!” Han scurried to his feet and darted over, wrapping an arm around Ben’s waist to hold him up before he completely fell flat. “What did you do? That thing just waltzed right off.”   
  
“I told her that we weren’t a threat,” Ben exhaled heavily.  
  
“Well would you look at that? I told you that you had Light left in you. You spared a creatures life after attacked us, which was definitely something Ben would have done.” Han was more than proud of his son right now, already taking the first step into returning to the Light. He knew it would have taken less effort to kill it rather than to enter its mind and influence its judgement. Luke had always said that Ben had vast potential within the Force, harbouring abilities from both the Light and Dark simultaneously. The Skywalker genes were strong within him.   
  
“Thanks for saving me, kid.” Han said, glad that he wasn’t impaled on antlers – that would have been an embarrassing way to go after all the scrapes he had gotten himself out of up until now.  
  
“I was just returning the favour, _old man._ ” Ben half smirked, testing the nickname out on his tongue. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it, nicknames were a term of endearment, even if they were insulting. He wasn’t sure if it was appropriate for their current state of relationship. Han however, cracked a wide smile and ruffled Ben’s hair.   
  
“Old man.” He shook his head, amused.  He was surely asking for that one, calling his adult son ‘kid’ all the time. He just couldn’t help it, it was hard not to see the small child he remembered when he looked at him. Despite the years that had gone by, Ben had barely aged at all. “Well, looks like we took the shortcut after all, jumping wasn’t so bad.”  
  
“Correction: you tumbled, I jumped.” Ben uttered, managing to hold himself up enough to sit down properly. The air felt as though it was getting thinner.   
  
“Hey, I’m the snarky one, not you.” Han pointed at himself.   
  
“I do share half your DNA.” Ben added. It didn’t feel as strange as he thought it would be to say that out loud. Maybe one day he would actually feel proud of being Han’s son, when he finally lived up to the expectation of being Ben Solo.   
  
“Well half-my-DNA, do you think we can get back up and carrying on moving? It’s literally right there, take us like five minutes to get inside, if that.” Han offered out his arm to help him up. Ben grasped Han’s arm but only made if halfway to his feet before a sharp pain in his chest left him staggering. “Ben?”   
  
“I c-can’t b-breathe,” Ben gasped, clasping the fabric at his chest that felt like it was constricting around him, suffocating him. His lungs felt like they were frozen, unable to inflate, unable to take in oxygen. What was left of his colour quickly began to drain from his face. Holding him up, Han grasped hold of his son‘s jaw and turned him to face him.  
  
“Hey, hey, do you think you can stay conscious until we make it to the outpost? They must have a med bay, even if it is uninhabited.” Han’s expression turned deadly serious. Ben nodded with as much fortitude as he could possibly muster.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uTChrie-QZQ  
> Extra Feels
> 
> Thanks again for following this feelsfest, hope you're still enjoying it :D


	9. Chapter 8

Han discerned what appeared to be an abandoned base, and quickly located the sign for the medical sector. He didn’t check to see if the metal door to the med-bay was locked, instead he just booted it down, hoping that the freezing temperature had rusted over the lock, making it brittle. It had. The hinge gave a screech as the metal swung open and the motion detecting lights flickered on with a buzz showing a surprisingly sterile and well-preserved environment.   
  
“Backup generator.” Han commented under his breath. He immediately locked onto the nearest bed and helped Ben on to it, checking him over. Ben was wheezing, slow and shallow, but somehow managed to hold onto consciousness. Han pressed the backs of his finger against his son’s forehead as he flinched away from the light, noting that he was even colder than before. He then checked his pulse: weak and decelerating. His mind raced as he tried to figure out his first move.   
                
\- He needed to find something to help Ben breathe. Now.  
\- He needed to bring Ben’s temperature up. Fast.  
\- He needed to find something that would act as a pain relief. Soon.  
  
Han darted around the room, frantically opening up cupboards and drawers, routing through them, not even bothering to close them again. Ben fidgeted on the bed, struggling to find a position that allowed him to take in air.   
  
“No…dad…I don’t want to go to sleep…the Fyrnock’s will get me…” Ben mumbled to himself. This caught Han’s attention. Ben hadn’t said that to him since he was seven years old, after the accident Han had when he unknowingly brought home a young Fyrnock from the asteroid PM-1203 during a particularly odd trade. The thing had snuck into Ben’s quarters and hid under his bed to avoid the light – only to later reveal itself at night. The little beast had managed to dig its teeth into Ben’s leg before Han came running in to shoot the small bastard. Ben was afraid of them for a good year after the incident, as Han or Leia had to check under his bed every night after that just to make sure it was undisturbed. Ben must have been really out of it to be thinking about that right now, especially as it was actually visibly stressing him out.   
  
“They won’t get you Ben, I already checked under your bed. There is nothing there.” Han replied, feeling it a little uncanny to be playing along to something that happened such a long time ago. But he felt that Ben needed the reassurance.  
  
“Y-you sure?” Ben’s voice almost sounded timid.   
  
“I promise.” Han nodded, being thrown back into reality by the raw sound of Ben hopelessly struggling to fight for breath. He continued his hectic rummaging, yanking open a cupboard that once he saw what was inside, brought him instant reprieve. Han grabbed the oxygen tank and mask and rushed back over to his son, right on the verge of passing out.   
  
“Hey, Ben, stay with me ok?” Han gently tapped Ben on the cheek, temporarily rousing him.   
  
“Ben?” He looked confused, then unexpectedly, very angry. “Get away from me Han Solo.” He hissed through a choked breath, jerking an outstretched hand up and Force pushing his father away from him. Cabinets clattered and glass shattered, raining down on Han as he was thrust across the room. The Force user made an attempt to stand, clutching at his chest with one arm and using the bed for balance with the other.   
  
“I have got to stop letting him push me around like this…” Han grumbled under his breath as he got back to his feet, brushing off the shards of glass. It was truly a miracle that he wasn’t that badly hurt, but he assumed Ben’s powers were far weaker than usual right now. Dazed and coughing, the once Jedi stumbled forwards right as his vision took a nauseating spin.   
  
“Ben. Listen to me, you’ve gotta calm down.” Han held up his hands as a gesture of peace, taking a cautious step towards his hysterical son. The Force user backed up, unsteady, muttering for Han to get away from him. Then he collapsed. Unmoving.   
  
“Ben!” Han rushed towards him, dropping onto his knees and rolling his son onto his back. “You better still be breathing, kid.” He saw no visible movement in his chest. Panicked, Han leant over him, angling to his head to see if he could hear the sound of escaping air. For a moment there was nothing, nothing but empty silence. When the sound of a shallow breath caught his ear, Han literally felt the crushing weight inside him dilapidate. A few more breaths came, irregular, but there, alongside the sound of a slow thumping heartbeat.   
  
“You stupid peedunky,” Han took a much needed breath and rested his forehead atop of Ben’s chest, just for a moment, just to calm himself. “I swear you’re going to give me heart failure one day Ben.”   
  
After pulling himself together, Han lifted up his son and placed him back on the bed, brushing away the stray locks of ebony hair from his brow and fitting the oxygen mask over his nose and mouth, glad when he saw that it eased the strain on his body. Folding his arms across his chest, Han watched the sleeping form of his child, unnerved for once, by his stillness. Han’s brain kicked back into action at blatant reminder of the bluish tinge of Ben’s skin and how the room itself was far from warm enough to bring his temperature up. He needed blankets. And lots of them.   
  
“I’ll be right back Ben, you just keep breathing, ok?” Han knew exactly where he could find what he needed.   
  
With a sense of urgency in his step, he left the med-bay, and headed over to the barracks, closing the door behind him to keep as much heat inside as possible. After passing an old Starfighter across a small landing bay, (which he took mental note of to check out later) Han bashed his way through another rusted door. As expected, the inside was filled with a dozen beds, completely made and untouched, frozen in time with an assembly of dust. Han darted from bed to bed, yanking up the blankets and stuffing them into one big ball under his arm and a couple over his shoulder before heading back to the med-bay.   
  
Han came to an abrupt halt outside the metal door. The door was quaking in its frame, hinges rattling.   
  
“What the–?” His eyebrows furrowed as he reached out and grasped hold of the juddering handle, feeling tingles spread across the palm of his hand. Something shattered inside the med-bay, something that sounded like glass. He forced open the door, right as the light fixture above him exploded into sparks and splinters. The floor shook. The walls shook. The air itself shook. Metal contorted, containers imploded, the whole room was alive and in a state of frenzy. Ben was screaming in his sleep, and writhing like something had crawled under his skin.   
  
Dumping the blankets on the floor, Han dodged a collection of chaotic, airborne syringes and turbulent scalpels that formed into a lethal twister and advanced towards Ben. This was more than just a nightmare. No nightmare was strong enough to inflict this level of turmoil over the Force.   
  
“Ben. Wake up.” Han clasped Ben’s shoulders, tight and secure, to prevent him from moving and possibly hurting himself. An object whizzed past Han’s arm, slicing open fabric and skin, another zipped past his thigh. “Dammit Ben you’re creating a kriffing earthquake in here! Please, just wake up!” Brown eyes filled with hysteria flew open. Han braced himself for impact, eyes closed, expecting to be shoved back by the Force, only to be thumped in the chest by something far less damaging. Han opened his eyes one at a time as he felt fingers burrow into his shirt and looked down to see the black tresses of hair from a head that was pressed up against his torso. The worry tunnelled deeper, as for a moment, Han swore he saw a flash of toddler Ben in front of him, not the adult that hid against him.   
  
The room stilled. Items in flight clattered to the ground. Han remained silent. He knew better than to talk, to break Ben from the bubble of solace he needed, but probably didn’t want. Ben had already lose his reputation, his authority, what more was his dignity? But to be fixed, you had to be broken, and to know you’re broken, something which Ben was only just coming to terms with. De-masking Kylo was only the first step, what was underneath was not yet Ben, just a shroud, an outline, a possibility, someone who had been lost a long time ago, and like a growing child, would take years to grow, to mend.   
  
“You’re still cold.” Han commented, keeping his voice to no more than a whisper. Ben relaxed his grip and hesitantly retreated his arms to instead wrap around himself. He didn’t raise his head as he pulled away, gaze fixed on the floor and jaw forcefully clenched. Han carefully stepped around all the debris to re-gather the mound of blankets and bring them back over to Ben, who was still breathing shallow and slowly. One by one Han layered them around him, while Ben remained as immobile as a statue.   
  
“You should probably put this back on, it’ll help.” Han said, picking up the oxygen mask that Ben must have knocked off during his agitated slumber. Ben half-heartedly swatted it away and shook his head. “Fine. But if you get any worse, there won’t be any negotiations Ben, I will force it on you if I have to.”   
    
Ben remained silent, hiding behind his black curls and burying himself further in the blankets, pulling them up to his chin. Han found himself a stool that had been knocked over during the Force-induced hurricane, relocated it to beside the bed and perched himself on it. It felt good to sit down and rest his chronically fatigued muscles. He had to remember sometimes, that he really wasn’t as young as he thought himself to be.   
  
“That is the second time you’ve had a nightmare, they seem to be getting worse.” Han pointed out, hoping to find out more. This wasn’t the wake up with palms sweating and heart racing kind of fear, where the only threat was just your imagination. This was ingrained. Real.  
  
“They’re not nightmares…” Ben muttered.  
  
“What do you mean?” Han asked, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Ben remained silent, shifting uncomfortably. “Ben, please tell me. I can’t help unless you tell me.”  
  
“You can’t help, there is nothing you can do.” Ben replied, pre-emptively defeated. Han grabbed his son’s jaw and made him face him, he knew that sometimes the best way to get him to open up, was to enforce it.   
  
“Tell me, Ben. It’s Snoke isn’t it?” Han felt his blood boil at just mentioning his name. The true monster, the monster who had stolen his son away from him, blackened his soul and corrupted his mind. Ben jerked his chin out of Han’s grasp and turned away.  
  
“He can get inside my head, inside my dreams. He’s aware that I’ve betrayed him but he won’t let me go, because I know too much and I’m the only one who can eradicate what is left of the Jedi.” Ben explained. It always came down to the Force, the energy that regulated the galaxy. The Dark side would never be at full power as long as the Light remained in existence.   
  
“Is there any way to prevent this?” Han questioned.  
  
“No. The Supreme Leader is powerful, his knowledge of the Force is ancient. It is only a matter of time before he compels me into becoming his puppet, one way or another, whether I will it or not.” Ben winced at the memory and the particularly tight breath he took.   
  
“Will it? Are you saying that Snoke can control you against your will?” Han’s eyebrows furrowed. There was only so much he knew about Snoke and his affiliation with Ben.   
  
“You should know that I was in in full control for every deed I committed as Kylo Ren.” Ben said, giving Han a very bitter smile. “He tended to use this Force manipulation for punishment and extortion. A way to keep his pawns in line, to make sure they obeyed willingly. You see, this power doesn’t affect the direct consciousness of the mind, but the body. To be aware but not in control was like being imprisoned in this void with no ability to fight or escape. It terrified me that no matter how much I screamed inside my own head, there was nothing I could do to stop my body from moving. I found obedience was a much lesser price to pay than to be trapped and that creating myself a new identity helped protect me from the internal pain.”  
  
“How many times did he do that to you?” Han questioned, unable to imagine how that must have felt. Snoke was definitely not to be underestimated.   
  
“Just the once, I learnt quickly that failing Snoke’s orders was something that I definitely did not want to do.” Ben answered.  
  
“What happened?”   
  
“It was the day Snoke instructed me to eliminate the rest of Luke’s apprentices. My first major mission. I remember cutting down one after the other, how easy it was, how numb I was. They fought back, every one of them stood some hope of a chance against me. Except one. A baby girl, just a few months old, she’s been taken in by Luke who had noticed her Force sensitivity.”  
  
“Rey.” Han uttered.

“The scavenger, I know. I remember holding my saber over her face, watching the blue light spitting across her skin. Then I just turned away. I let her live and returned to Snoke, telling him I killed them all. He knew I was lying, saw my weakness and punished me for it, a reminder to make sure it didn’t happen again.” Ben pulled off his left glove and rolled up his sleeve, showing Han the raw scars across his inner arm. Each one was a crude letter, burnt red against pale skin, spelling out the word: weak, to forever be a cruel reminder.   
  
“Was that done by–?”  
  
“A lightsaber, my saber, by my hand.” Ben finished, covering the despised memory again.  
  
“I swear I’m going to blast that Snoke into oblivion.” Han seethed, balling his hands into fists. It startled him when Ben then began to chuckle. He hadn’t heard such a noise in a very long time, it sounded different from what he remembered, foreign, but recognisable. “What’s so funny, kid?”  
  
“You’ve always been so belligerent and getting in way over your head. You haven’t changed at all.” Ben finally looked at his father, irrevocably seeing him for the first time as he remembered.  
  
“Only when it comes to the people I care about.” Han corrected.  
  
“I missed you, dad.” Ben almost looked teary. The overflow of emotions seemed to impact his ability to breathe again, drowning in feelings had never felt so literate.   
  
“I missed you too, son.” Han held up the oxygen mask and Ben somehow found the ability, (despite his near hyperventilating) to roll his eyes. Nevertheless he didn’t protest, replacing the mask over his nose and mouth, which did indeed lessen the panic in his lungs. Han smacked his knees before getting to his feet. Ben shot him a look that asked him what he was doing.   
  
“I’m going to take another look around the room, there’s gotta be something else in here that will be of use.” He said, placing a hand on his hip as he inspected the damage to the room. Leaving his father to his search, Ben just lay himself back down, savouring the warmth of the blankets and how it slowly started to ease the ache in all his muscles. If there was one thing for sure, he would never take heat for granted again. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glad you're still reading and enjoying :P makes me very happy ^.^ -- and my muse 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uTChrie-QZQ  
> Dunno why I keep adding this link, the more I watch it, the more I hate it haha.


	10. Chapter 9

Ben had zoned out to the sound of shifting items and Han’s footsteps and occasional grunts of both boredom and dissatisfaction.

“Ah-ha!” Han chanted, looking into the drawer that was full of small bottles filled with Bacta-serum and a roll of Bacta infused bandages, items that would actually be useful. He picked out one of the bottles, and of course the bandages, and headed back over to Ben who had on him an inquisitive expression, which lasted a total of two seconds.    
  
“Look what I found,” Han announced, waving the items in the air. Ben looked entirely unimpressed. The smuggler glanced behind him at the mess of scalpels and syringes that had been left scattered on the floor, searching for some that were still lidded. He picked two up, he could use a healing boost himself with all the cuts and bruises he had neglected to think about. Han sat himself back down on the stool, popped open the bottle, flicked off the syringe cap and prepared a small dose for himself. After rolling up his sleeve, he tested out the needle till it spat a pineapple smelling liquid into the air before he then inserted the sharp tip into a vein, not even wincing. He shook off the weird tingles that streamed up his arm and then began prep for a second syringe.  
  
“Your turn.” Han said, filtering in a much larger dose for his son, who was in a much worse condition. Ben groaned at the thought of a needle. “What? Still a little afraid of injections are we, Ben?” Han let out a little laugh. The image of five-year-old Ben clinging to Leia’s leg at the sight of a needle after catching Dantari flu was still quite a fond picture.  
  
“Of course not.” Ben frowned, clearly lying.  
  
“It didn’t seem to bother you when I sticked you on Starkiller base.”  
  
“You took me by surprise.” Consequently, that experience probably added to his dislike of thin, sharp pointy things. To think he wielded the galaxy’s most dangerous hand-held weapon, a weapon that could slice through limbs on contact and yet it was a meagre strip of metal that rattled his nerves. It was always the small things though, just like Han and his inane fear of Wroshyr lice, something about a female Wookiee having dropped one on him that then scuttled under his shirt. Just the mention of one know, tended to make him squirm.  
  
“Well you tend not to give someone warning when you drug them,” Han said. Did he enjoy drugging his son? No. Did he regret it? No.  
  
“Can we just get this over with?” Ben grumbled, voice muffled behind the mask. It was just an injection. One that would greatly aid his healing process and get him back to his full strength, especially as he was getting rather fed up of being constantly exhausted and hurting.  
  
“Do you mind showing me your neck?” Han requested. Ben was hesitant as he pulled off his cowl, but knew that was the most efficient place to inject the chemical. He turned his head to the side and closed his eyes, glad that there was no way he could inadvertently take a peep. Han brushed back a bunch of black curls and drew down the fabric attached to his robes, to fully expose Ben’s pale and lightly freckled neck, only to catch sight of a thin black cord, which he pondered briefly, but said nothing about.  
  
“Sorry, this will hurt a little. Just relax.” Han warned, it was redundant to say, but truthfully he felt the need. Anything that involved inflicting pain on his only child had the side effect of imposing guilt upon him. Ben did the exact opposite of relaxing and instead clutched hold of the bedframe and unintentionally held his breath as the needle was inserted into his neck.  
  
“There, all done.” Han retracted the slither of metal and patted his son on the shoulder. Ben let out a sigh of relief and finally calmed his muscles. The medicine quickly kicked in, already improving his senses, organ function and reducing fatigue. “Is it alright if I bandage up your ankle? It’ll help it to heal quicker?” Ben nodded. Granted permission, Han gingerly removed Ben’s boot and was instantly met with the sight of multiple, purple bruises, swelling and a very misshapen bone, which looked undeniably tender.  
  
“I remember the first time I had to bandage you up.” He unravelled the roll and began to wrap up his ankle. “You were about three, Chewie was babysitting you, for some odd reason you had this obsession with trying to climb up him and onto his shoulders. Usually you would do it with me and your mother watching, just in case you fell, but this time you had somehow managed to sneak up on Chewie while he was alone. I remember the distress on Chewie’s face when he came running into the bedroom, carrying you in his arms with a sprained wrist, while me and your mom were–”  
  
“Stop. No. Too much information.” Ben quickly covered his ears, squirming at the thought that he thankfully didn’t remember in person. Han smirked.  
  
“To be honest, I think Chewie was more mortified than you were. Besides if we didn’t do stuff like that, you would have never been born.”  
  
“Dad. Please–”  
  
“I don’t think I ever got chance to give you ‘the talk,’” Han mused.  
  
“Dad.”  
  
“Saying that, have you ever, y’know, done the deed?”  
  
“Dad I swear if you don’t stop talking, I’m going to use the Force to choke you.” Ben’s eyes narrowed viciously. This was not something he wanted to talk about, _ever._ He had been way too preoccupied with his tasks in the First Order to even think about such primal activities. Except for that one time (and the countless other times that followed), with a particular ginger-haired General, something which both of them swore to never mention outside the moment. It was a frustration thing, mixed with an unhealthy curiousity, daring rivalry and an explosive impulse. Whether or not Ben actually enjoyed it, was still a mystery to him and even so, he still hated the General. Ben for one, vowed to never pursue such an absurd notion ever again. It transpired, but didn’t exist outside the moment, simple as. Ben closed his eyes, getting bored of looking up at the ceiling.  
  
“Fine, fine. I relent.” Han held up his hands, gesturing peace. He sat back down on the stool, having finished up binding Ben’s ankle. His son was probably hiding something from him, but it was unnecessary information. He supposed even Ben was allowed some secrets of his own.  
  
Leaning over, Han propped his elbow against the bed and leant his chin across the palm of his hand. He was tired, but didn’t particularly want to leave Ben’s side while he was still not completely out of danger, especially with the looming threat of Snoke and his troublesome ability.  
  
“There is more than one bed in this room.” Ben pointed out without opening his eyes. Force or no Force, it wasn’t hard to sense the fact that Han was beyond tired.  
  
“I can count.” Han said. A slight frown appeared across Ben’s forehead. “What about you? Are you going to try and rest? You need it, unless those shadows under your eyes are part of your Dark side ensemble.”  
  
“Did anyone ever tell you that you’re annoying?” Ben groaned.  
  
“Your mother. Repeatedly. Though really, you mention my name to anyone in the galaxy and that is likely to be the first or second word they associate with me.”  
  
“Is the other one laserbrain?” Ben quirked a grin.  
  
“Probably.” Han laughed. He really had missed talking to his son like this. There were very few things in the galaxy that truly made him happy; moments like these were one of them. “Though seriously, what’s the plan?”  
  
“Meditate.” Ben murmured. It was the closest he was going to get to sleeping. Usually he struggled to meditate, unable to remain still for long periods of time with nothing but the sound of his own inner voice, a voice that he most certainly did not get along with.  For now however, he was just going to let his mind wander into finding solace in distant memories from before the galaxy became complicated.  
  
_Six-year-old Ben Solo squeezed himself behind a pile of boxes in the Forward Hold of the Millennium Falcon and ducked down, slapping a hand over his mouth to prevent the sound of his giggles from escaping. He was supposed to be on a secret rescue mission! Leia and Kalla (his stuffed Wookiee) had been kidnapped by a pair of Stormtroopers and were being held hostage in the Crew Quarters of the ship. He was their last hope, the only one who could rescue them._  
  
_Footsteps echoed across hollow metal grates, machines buzzed in the distance, lights occasionally flickered and gusts of steam poked out from the cracks in old piping. Supressing his bouncing eagerness (as he was supposed to be stealthy), Ben crept out from the spaces between the mountain of boxes, listening to make sure that he was indeed quiet. He darted towards the nearest wall and pressed himself up against it, sucking in his tummy, just to make sure he was as flat as humanly possible. He then peeked around the door into the Main Hold, seeing an oversized carpet with a Stormtrooper helmet precariously balanced on top of an oversized head. Ben tried not to laugh, amused by the sight of what looked to be a head on top of a head._  
  
_Stormtrooper Chewie stood guard over the maintenance access, facing the port-side corridor which would have been the quicker route to the Crew Quarters. Ben make mental note of his options, he was currently unarmed and there was no way he could take down such a beast with strength alone. He had to be sneaky, slip past the Storm-Carpet and instead traverse the main corridor in hopes of not running into the Daddy-Trooper._  
  
_Taking a deep breath, Ben dropped into a crouch and walked on all fours, his butt stuck up high in the air (without his knowledge of course). When Storm-Carpet began to turn around, Ben dived over the semi-circle of a couch with a not so subtle oomph. Chewie was of course alerted to Ben and his lack of covertness, but of course knew to play along regardless and ignore him. As if acting out his rounds, Chewie then marched his way down the port-side corridor in the opposite direction of Ben. Once he was sure Storm-Carpet was far enough away, Ben clambered back over the seating, clumsily flopping onto the cushion and accidentally turning on the hologame table._  
  
_“Poodoo.” Ben muttered under his breath as he heard the heavy footsteps return. Not even bothering to try and turn the table off, Ben bolted from the room and into the main corridor, hoping that that table would suffice as a distraction. He ran past the Quad-laser Access Tube (which he wasn’t allowed into) and hid behind the door in the Circuitry Bay, just above the Crew Quarters, right as Daddy-trooper walked past wearing his usual attire alongside a Stormtrooper helmet that seemed to make him unable to walk in a straight line. Ben held his breath in an attempt to be as silent as possible as he waited for Daddy-Trooper to continue down the corridor to meet up with Storm-Carpet._  
  
_“Have you found the intruder yet WK-0013?” Daddy-Trooper asked, his voice muffled by the helmet. Storm-Carpet wailed a reply._  
  
_“No we can’t go play Dejarik! Just because it’s on, doesn’t mean we have to play it. Yes I know you’re addicted to that game but we’re supposed to be looking for the intruder right now.”_  
  
_While they argued, Ben quickly crept forwards and opened the electronic door to the Crew Quarters. Inside, perched on top of one of the beds was Leia. She was dressed in white, with her hair in circular bunches over her ears. Kalla sat on her lap. Her face immediately lit up at the sight of her son standing proud in the doorway with his hands on his hips and chin propped up in a heroic stance._  
  
_“I have come to rescue you Princess Mommy!” Ben bowed, remembering his manners when it came to greeting a royalty._  
  
_“My hero!” Leia beamed, holding out her loosely tied up wrists. Ben rushed over and undid the easy knot, letting the rope plummet to the floor. Leia’s eyes flashed upwards. “Look out!”_  
  
_Ben leapt to the side as Daddy-Trooper barged into the room with a fake blaster which he pretend fired haphazardly, purposely missing every phony shot while mimicking the sound of a laser vocally._  
  
_“Ah these lousy blasters! Stop moving intruder!” Daddy-Trooper yelled. Ben then charged with a roar, pelting into Daddy-Troopers leg whom then theatrically fell backwards with a yelp. They both wrestled for a moment with Ben trying to prise the blaster out of Daddy-Trooper’s hands._  
  
_“WK-0013 I call for aid! The intruder has me pinned down!” A sharp howl was heard from the distance. “That useless furball. Out of all the times to need use the bathroom.”_

 _Daddy-Trooper let his grip slip and Ben took hold of the fake blaster and pointed it at Daddy-Trooper._  
  
_“Pewpew,” he imitated. With a melodramatic sound of pain, Daddy-Trooper fell backwards, twitching for added humour, which most certainly made Ben laugh. Ben sat straddling his father’s chest for a few minutes, still giggling to himself. When all of a sudden Daddy-Trooper shot up and removed his helmet, only then to unleash the dreaded tickle fingers._

 _“I have found your weakness Ben Solo!” Han declared, digging his fingers into Ben’s ribs evidently making him squirm and howl with hysterical laughter._  
  
_“You will never d-defeat me!” Ben squeaked, trying to get away frantically. But there was no escaping the rabid attack._

Han sat back on the stool, wondering what Ben was thinking about. Whatever it was, seemed to have created a near permanent curl in his lips and a sense of peacefulness. He crossed his arms over his chest, although he was tired, he wasn’t bored. There was something enjoyable about watching Ben and just being in his presence. He had missed out on years of being able to look at his son, he had seen him from a distance a couple of times during his travels, but never up close like this, and never without his mask. That moment on Starkiller base was the first time Han had a chance to glimpse at the full-grown Ben Solo.  
  
Sometimes it felt surreal to be reminded of the fact that he had a son, to know that the man in front of him only existed because of him and Leia. Having a son wasn’t like owning a ship (which was originally the closest thing he could compare the prospect to), where you bought it (or in this case acquired it on payment of a gambling debt), maintained it by simply changing broken parts and call it your baby. Yes it ached when he had left it behind and lost it, but that pain was only a minuscule fraction compared to what it felt like to lose a child. Raising a child was much more complicated and much more fulfilling. Although he liked to think that Falcon loved him back, it was just a ruse, a notion that he entertained. Ben however, was different. There was no mistaking the love in his eyes as a child, the pure devotion and idolization. Ben was dependent on him, a person who adored him unconditionally despite his flaws, who would hug him when he left and would always smile when he returned.  
  
The Falcon was just a ship when it came down to it, it remained loyal to whomever owned it, even after he had gone, the ship would move on and be piloted by someone else. Ben Solo was eternal. Ben Solo would _always_ be his son. Ben Solo would always be his galaxy.  
  
The fact was, if Han had to choose between the ship that he had called his home for decades, and the opportunity to spend time with his son, even just for a few minutes, he would pick his son every single time, without a second thought and without any regret. He would always remember the day he found out Leia was pregant and the day Ben was born as two of his most treasured memories.  
_  
It had been a long day for Han Solo after dropping Chewbacca off back on Kashyyyk to reconsolidate his bond with his family. He always missed having the big oaf of a Wookiee around, but he knew that sooner or later they’d end up back together again, it was always the way. They were virtually inseparable. Besides, now Han had a family of his own to get back to. He and Leia had only been married a few months and already his life had taken a turn for the better. Han had never realised that he had such a hole inside him, like a freighter with a crappy hyperdrive, a hyperdrive that Leia had replaced with a state-of-the-art model. He had only been away for a couple of days and yet already his inner machine had begun to malfunction.  
  
“Hey Leia, I’m home. I hope you missed me.” Han called as he entered through the door to his current residence on Naboo. Leia had decided that it would be a nice planet to settle on while the galaxy was currently at peace, there was something about the place that made her feel so at home. Han wasn’t about to argue, it had been a very long time since he found anywhere to settle.                   Shrugging off his jacket, he then threw it onto the coat-stand and made his way into the lounge, coming to a halt when he was met with an unexpected guest whom was sat upon his couch. The sandy hair of his now brother-in-law was more than a welcome sight usually, but right now, he just wanted to have a nice long snuggle session with his beautiful wife, without any interruptions.  
  
“Luke?” Han raised an eyebrow as the other male turned his head and greeted him with a pleasant smile. One that was a little too elated for comfort. It only made Han’s eyebrow rise further.  
  
“Hey Han. It’s good to see you again.” Luke bounced to his feet and immediately went for a hug. It was a bit of a surprise as Han took a moment to reciprocate the gesture, semi-awkwardly patting Luke on the back.  
  
“You too, Luke. But do you mind telling me where your sister is?” Han asked, glancing around the large, lavish room. He wasn’t used to such extravagant furnishings, it didn’t suit him, nor did it make him feel comfortable.  
  
“She’s in the kitchen brewing some Naris-bud tea,” Luke replied, gesturing to the archway that separated the two rooms. He then patted Han on the shoulder. “Congratulations by the way.” Before Han had chance to ask what Luke was referring to, he was distracted by the presence of Leia carrying a tray of steaming mugs, filled with the scent of that fragrant beverage that she so enjoyed on a regular basis. Something was different about her, the way she looked, her vibe. Whatever it was; he liked it.  
  
“Han!” She beamed, hastily lowering the tray onto the coffee table and making her way over to her beloved husband, leaving a sweet little kiss on his cheek that she had to stretch up to give.  
  
“Well hello there good-looking.” Han grinned, wrapping an arm around her waist and tugging her towards him.  
  
“Well. I’m just going to leave you two to it. I have other errands to take care of.” Luke said, backing up towards the front door. His absence barely went noticed as Han and Leia locked eyes with one another and were carted off into their own little fantasy.  
  
“You seem to be in a good mood, what gives? I haven’t seen you smile like this since our marriage. You can’t be that glad to see me, even if I am this handsome.” Han wondered, not that he was complaining. The air around them just felt so much more tantalizing than usual.  
  
“Well, why don’t you take a guess?” Leia hummed, coyly playing with one of the buttons on Han’s shirt. It was still hard to believe sometimes, that she had fallen so deeply in love with such a laserbrain. But here she was, happier than she had ever been in her life, pressed up against the one man that made her feel like a princess without the title.  
  
“Oh so we’re playing games now, huh?” Han teased. He kissed her on the forehead, then began to inspect her to try and work out what had changed. “Well, you’ve changed your hair – which by the way – looks amazing.”  
  
“Thanks, but no that’s not it.” Leia’s smile widened slightly. She was convinced that Han would never guess the truth, but it was so fun to watch him try, even if she had to suppress her eagerness to straight up tell him, just to see his reaction.  
  
“Did you find that lost baby Tusk-cat you were talking about?”  
  
“Yes I did and it’s fine now, I returned it to its _ mother _.” Leia overemphasised the final word, hoping that Han would catch on._ _He didn’t. She took one of his hands and gently relocated it to over her stomach and held it there.  
  
“Is it the dress?” Han questioned, confused. He was pretty sure he had seen this dress before and there was indeed nothing all that special about it.  
  
“No it’s not the dress.” She told him, gently stroking his knuckles with her thumb. Lines of confusion spread across his forehead as he stared down at Leia’s stomach. Then it hit him, like a jumpstarting an engine._  
_  
“Oh. Oh. OH.” Han’s eyes widened as he took a step back, his body reacting before his brain could even catch up. Even his inner voice had forgotten how to speak.  
  
“I’m pregnant Han, you’re going to be a father.” Leia’s wondrous smile, brimming with excitement would forever be etched onto Han’s mind. He covered his mouth and froze to the spot, unable to locate the rest of his body as the word ‘father’ replayed in the deep recesses of his mind. His thoughts flashed to Chewie, the way Lumpawaroo always came bolting out of the hut at the sight of his father to jump into his arms. The way Chewie would look at him, like he was everything, and the way he would get upset when he left. Han would have that too. His own little Solo.  
  
“I’m going to be a father?” Han tested the word on his tongue, it was a title he never thought he’d ever associate with himself.  
  
“Yes. We’re going to be a family.” Leia nodded, wiping away the welling up tears in her eyes. She had always wanted to have a family of her own, to one day settle down and live a peaceful life. Han finally broke out into the wildest smile of his life.  
  
“Can you imagine that? Me? Han Solo. A DAD.” He pointed at himself, feeling the urge to just scream it aloud.   
  
“Luke told me it’s going to be a boy.” Leia added. She had called Luke as soon as she had found out the news, she half wanted to keep the baby’s gender a surprise, but after Luke offered, she just couldn’t help herself.  
  
“A boy? I’m going to have a son…” Han’s said quietly. He could already picture him now, the tiny Solo. He would have Leia’s eyes and his attitude. “I’M GOING TO HAVE A SON!!” Han swooped down and picked up his wife, spinning her around in delight. He was going to have a son, he could teach him everything he knew, how to fly the Falcon, how to shoot a blaster, how to be the best pilot ever. He would always be_ his _boy and no one else’s – other than Leia of course._  
  
_But the responsibility. Han had no clue how to be a parent, he had lost his own when he was young. He barely knew how to look after himself, never mind a baby. A wave of panic overwhelmed him as he put Leia back down and felt the muscles in his legs give way. He stumbled to the couch and sat down, burying his face in his hands._  
  
_“Do you think I can do that? Be a father? I mean I don’t know the first thing about it.” Han said, brushing back his brown hair in one restive motion._  
  
_“We’re in this together Han, we can do this. I’m sure you’ll make a great father.” Leia smiled, sitting down beside her husband and leaning her head on his shoulder._  
  
_“I have a bounty on my head, it’s one thing if Bounty Hunters come after me, but the thought of them harming our baby boy…I just can’t.” Han muttered, instantly regretting every bad decision he had ever made. Leia was tough, she could handle herself better than he could, he knew he didn’t have to worry about her, but a baby: a fragile, defenceless bundle. The thought alone made him sick._  
  
_“I never took you for the worrying type,” Leia chuckled, placing a comforting hand on his knee. “We helped destroy two Death Stars and brought down the Galactic Empire. I’m sure we can raise a child and keep him safe. Luke has also promised that he’ll do everything within his power to help us protect our precious little boy.”_  
  
_“Yeah you’re right.” Han nodded, placing his hand atop Leia’s. They could do this, they were two of the most badass people in the entire galaxy. Tears welled up in his eyes._  
  
_“This is a blessing, we’re going to be a family.”_  
  
_“I know.”_

The nine months couldn’t have gone by any quicker. Han remembered the morning sickness, the way Leia would spring out of bed and dart towards the bathroom like clockwork. She would always take it in her stride like the true warrior she was. He remembered when she first started showing; that wonderful little bump that he would talk to every day that slowly got bigger and bigger. He remembered the first time he felt him kick, that small little sensation that proved how real he was and how that one day he would be able to _see_ that little kick.  
  
When the day finally came and Leia went into labour, Han was torn between extreme exhilaration and devastating panic.  
  
_Han Solo paced the length of the waiting room for the hundredth time, his hair dishevelled from the amount of times he had raked his fingers through it. Every time he heard Leia scream, he just wanted to barge in and hold her hand, (he actually did a couple of times) but the medical staff had insisted that he remained outside for their convenience._  
  
_“Calm yourself Han, everything is fine in there, I promise.” Luke announced, sitting patiently on one of the chairs, his hands overlapping one another on his lap._  
  
_“Yeah well, we can’t all have the Force to comfort us.” Han grumbled, spotting yet another droid which he immediately ran up to, bludgeoning it with questions about the condition of his wife and baby. By now this action had become one of auto-pilot and one that received the same answer every time: ‘sir, just be patient, your wife is still in labour. There is nothing more we can do other than to wait for the baby to come out within its own time.’ Han had always corrected the droid on its use of ‘it’ instead of ‘he’ because he wasn’t just a thing, he was Han’s son._  
  
_“Perhaps you should take a seat, Han?” Luke suggested, tapping the chair to his side. It really bothered Han how Luke was so calm, he knew it was a Jedi thing, but seriously, it was just inhuman._  
  
_“How can I sit still when Leia is giving birth to our child!?” Han protested._  
  
_“Like this.” Luke raised a hand and Han felt a sudden force push him onto a nearby chair and pin him down. “Now you can stop harassing the droids while they do their work.”_  
  
_“You know you’re really starting to irritate me, kid.” Han frowned. He really wished Chewie was here, but the blasted Wookiee had come down with Rhinacyria, though in all fairness he was just as upset about not meeting his nephew (for all intents and purposes) on the day of birth as Han was._

 _The droid Han had been looking for, finally appeared and called out his name. His gaze shot up as Luke released his hold, allowing him to spring to his feet._  
  
_“Mr Han Solo sir?” The droid beeped._  
  
_“Yes that’s me.” Han said with keenness._  
  
_“Congratulations, your wife has just given birth to healthy boy. Please follow me, I will direct you to her room.” The droid dipped its head and began to wheel off in the opposite direction. Han didn’t have chance to feel relief as he followed the droid down the hall, closely followed by Luke Skywalker. The door was opened and he was ushered inside by Luke as his feet became glued to the ground. The first thing he saw was Leia; Han barely noticed her chaotic hair or her clammy cheeks or the sheer exhaustion on her face. What he saw, was the woman of his dreams, the woman he prized more than the entire galaxy, the woman who currently had the most dazzling smile to have ever graced anyone’s features, and the woman who currently held the tiny human, who was the embodiment of their love, within her arms._  
  
_Han just stared for a good few minutes, trying to connect the cables within his brain that would process the image in front of him. Luke then nudged him forwards, kicking his legs into gear to finally move to get a better look at the baby who would one day call him father._  
  
_“Isn’t he beautiful?” Leia uttered. She could have looked at him forever and remained happy. Leia had been swathed in riches all her life, but she had never truly treasured anything until now, looking down at the most precious being that she created, that she gave life to._  
  
_“He’s…incredible.” Han added, leaning over._  
  
_“Do you want to hold him?” Leia stretched her arms out towards him._  
  
_“Ummm,” Han hesitated, retreating back a little. He knew he wasn’t a gentle person and seeing such a small, fragile thing, someone that he most certainly didn’t want to hurt, made him edgy. “I don’t want to drop him.”_  
  
_“You won’t drop him you scruffy-looking spacer,” Leia laughed._  
  
_“Uh, alright then.” He shuffled forward, feeling his breath leave him as Leia gently placed the miniature bundle within his arms. Luke spontaneously grabbed a chair and placed it behind Han as he half-lost his footing and slumped into the seat. Warm and squirming, the red, puffy-cheeked infant opened his big brown eyes – just like Leia’s – and looked right up at him. Han fell in love all over again. The tiniest hands that Han had ever seen stretched out and made grabby motions the air. He couldn’t help himself from reaching down and nudging a finger right into the baby’s petite palm. Chubby little fingers coiled around his own and Han felt his heart soar. He knew in that moment, he would have given up everything for this little boy, including his own life. He tried to ignore the moisture building up in the corners of his eyes._  
  
_Luke placed a hand on Han’s shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze._  
  
_“I guess I’m an uncle now,” Luke chuckled, looking down at his new nephew. For a moment he saw a flash of Darth Vader in his mind and the feel of his presence. He didn’t want to tell them so soon, to spoil the moment, but already he could sense the power of the Force residing in the child. “So have you thought of a name yet?”_  
  
_Han looked up at Leia expectantly, knowing she would choose a better name than he would. Somehow he didn’t think Leia would be too happy about naming their son Millennium or Falcon or some variation of those words. Maybe he could pick his middle name though?_  
  
_“I was thinking…how about Ben?” She suggested._  
  
_“Ben Solo. I like it.” Han grinned, glancing back down and wiggling his finger which earned him a hint of a smile from baby Ben. Leia would have to fight him if she wanted him back to hold._  
  
_“I like it, too.” Luke nodded, thinking about Obi-Wan and how proud he would have been to see Leia with her first child._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyy. Thanks all for the kudos so far and double triple thanks to all those who have left a comment, you are the bestest! :D
> 
> Here is a nice long chapter for yous :D


	11. Chapter 10

Han sat by Ben’s side for two days, through the toughest part of his recovery, waiting until his temperature has risen to a healthier standard and his breathing to have evened out. They hadn’t talked much, Ben had spent most of the time lost in a near-sleep trance, occasionally dipping into the realms of slumber, only to have Han jerk him away at the first signs of a Snoke-induced nightmare. Han himself must have nodded off a couple of times, one time he even woke up to a blanket draped over his shoulders and a pillow under his head from where he had slouched forward.  Ben denied all knowledge of how they got there of course.   
  
With the suns in the sky and the snowstorm long gone, Han made his way outside to check out the ship that was left on the landing bay. The first thing he did was climb up into the pilot’s cockpit and switch on the transmitter. The communications were already linked up to where he wanted them to be, all he had to do was wait for an answer. Barely a minute went past before the line was hooked up and Leia’s face flashed on the display screen swathed in a blue hue, occasionally fuzzing. The ship was old, but that was what made it useful.   
  
“General.” Han dipped his head.  
  
“Solo.” Leia said. Their sincere tone broke instantaneously as they both smiled at one another, heartfelt yet still aching. They had drifted since the loss of their son, both blaming themselves for the mistakes and eventually starting to blame each other. Despite everything though, their love remained and so did their devotion, it just couldn’t remain in close proximity, not while the festering wound of their son continued to throb. “It’s good to hear from you Han, I was getting worried; you were supposed to check in a day ago. I was about to send in reinforcements.”  
  
“I know, I’m sorry. Just ran into some unforeseen complications is all, but it’s all sorted now, there is no need to worry about us.” Han waved her off. Leia very much heard the use of ‘us’ and felt a fluttering warmth inside her that filled her with hope.   
  
“Did it work? Have you got Ben back?” Leia asked, fervently.   
  
“He’s back, our son is back Leia. I kept my promise to you.” Han nodded. Leia’s hands moved to press over her nose and mouth in pleasant shock, her eyes filling up with tears. They were the words she had been waiting to hear for so long.

Leia was a master of brave faces and seemingly impenetrable armour, but the truth was, ever since Ben’s departure, she had been broken inside. Nothing would fix the cracks, the pain, and the gaping hole. Ben was her baby. There was literally no torment worse than losing a child, especially when that child was still alive. Especially when you knew there was nothing in your power to save them from their self-destructive path that would eventually lead to a hollow place.  
  
“Where is he?” Leia asked, wanting desperately to see the face of her son.  
  
“He’s resting right now, don’t worry he’s alright, like I said we ran into a few complications. You’ll get to see him soon enough.” Han assured. All he had to do was fix up the minor complications in the ship to make is flyable and they were good to go.   
  
“What does he look like now?” Leia questioned, unable to hide her curiosity. She hadn’t seen him since she had sent him off to Luke, many years ago.   
  
“Older. He let his hair grow out, it’s still dark and slightly curly. He kinda has this resting grump face, a lot like the one you used to do all the time, oh, and he still has those goofy looking ears that stick out, I have no idea where he got those from.” Han laughed lightly, amused by the way that Ben had clearly made a desperate attempt to cover them with his hair – it would also explain the mask. Leia always thought they were cute. “He’s tall too, taller than me. Who would have thought the little squirt would have such a growth spurt?”   
  
“I can’t wait to see him,” Leia smiled, wiping away the tears from under her eyes. She had waited too long to see the face of her adult son, missed too much. She should have been there for the most important transition of his life: from boyhood to manhood. This was time she was never going to get back, she had failed in the most important task of her life: raising a child. But maybe not all hope was lost, she could be there for him now, her and Han, a family once again.  
  
“Just gotta fix up this ship and then we’ll be heading home, just you wait.” Han promised, tone more confident that had been in a very long time. If one thing was for certain; there was no way he was going to let his wife down again. Han wanted her back as much as he wanted Ben, running away with Chewie was just a temporary escape; one that he knew in his heart would never last and eventually leave him empty. There was a time where the Falcon was everything, but after tasting something much sweeter, the notion of a loving wife and a child of his own, there was never any going back to being just the infamous smuggler.   
  
With two final goodbyes, Han switched off the communicator, worried that if he spent any more time talking to his wife he wasn’t going to be able to stop. He wished he hadn’t avoided her for all those years, but it was the best for the both of them, to keep their love alive. He climbed out of the cockpit and dropped down from one of the wings, then headed back to the med-bay.   
  
Ben was sat up straight on the bed, with one leg crossed and the other stretched out in front of him, a pencil and sketchpad in his hands, items which he had found somewhere during one of his explorations to prevent provoking possibly destructive boredom. His face was a mixture of deep focus and impending vexation, he was so lost in his calculated depictions that he didn’t even notice Han return.   
  
“What are you doing there, kid?” Han questioned, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed against his chest. Ben’s fingers tightened around the pencil as he stopped in motion, now broken from his trance.   
  
“Nothing.” He said without looking up. He ripped out a couple of pages, folded them neatly and packed them into his pocket underneath his robes. The sketchpad was then snapped shut.    
  
“If you say so. I just wanted to tell you that the ship on the landing bay needs a couple of repairs but is mainly in workable condition. I had a look around in the spare parts shed and found everything we need, we could probably get it up and running in a day or two.” Han said.  
  
“Great, we can finally get off this frozen wasteland.” Ben uttered, fiddling with the pencil, twirling it around his long fingers. He would be happy to never step foot on another frost consumed planet again. Han Solo continued to linger at the door, much to Ben’s slight annoyance. “Is there anything else…?”  
  
“Well, I was just going to ask, do you want to y’know, give me a hand?” Han suggested, digging his hands into his pockets. It would most certainly take longer to fix up a ship with Ben’s so called help (if he was anything like he remembered him being when it came to practical jobs that involved fixing anything mechanical). However, the thought of spending some quality time with his son outweighed the extra time.   
  
“Give you a hand? Me?” Ben frowned. He didn’t have the patience for things that he couldn’t grasp instantly, and trying to repair a ship was one of them.

“I could always use an extra pair of hands to pass me tools?” Han proposed, lowering the bar a little. “We never spent enough time together when you were younger, I think it’s about time I make up for that.” Ben couldn’t deny the fact that he was tempted. If he was now strong enough to choose to be Ben again, then maybe he was permitted to do things that Ben would want to do, even if he didn’t deserve it.   
  
“I guess…I have nothing better to do.” Ben replied, carefully sliding off the bed test out his healing ankle. It was still tender, but he could now put enough pressure on it to be able to walk without crippling himself.   
  
“Great.” Han beamed, surprised that Ben had accepted his offer, this was well and truly a breakthrough.  
  
They both headed outside towards the bay where the single, abandoned ship was stationed. As Han went off to find a toolkit, Ben inspected the old Starfighter, intrigued by its design – even more so about the strange device stuck beneath one of the stabilisers. There was something Ben always found interesting about the aesthetic appearance of ships both exterior and interior and what made them so unique and different from other models. He found a soothing tranquillity in trying to work out how to change designs, to improve the general statistics, how to make it faster, how to provide more space inside, how improve mobility. But all his ideas were just theoretical, he couldn’t put them into practice with his lack of applied skills that prevented him from building anything.   
  
“An ARC-170 Starfighter.” Han said, almost making Ben jump. “Not as awesome as the Millennium Falcon, but it’ll do.” Ben almost rolled his eyes at the comment, he was in belief that Han would never find a ship that he deemed better than the Falcon, despite the fact that that ship was overly outdated and generally just a clumsy piece of junk.   
  
Han placed the toolbox on one of the wings before clambering up, followed swiftly by Ben who made the motion look far more graceful. The pilot cockpit cover swung open before Han had chance to press the button. It would have hit him in the face if it wasn’t for the instinctual swerve back. An almost inaudible snigger broke out from behind him and Han spun his head to face it with a scowl.  
  
“You know there is a button right there!” He motioned to the big red button that was more easy to spot and even easier to press. “You don’t have to use the Force for everything you know?”   
  
Han shook his head and climbed down into the cockpit to fix up the mess that was in there first. Ben perched himself on the edge of one of the wings, letting his long legs dangle over the side while he savoured the gentle breeze across his face. He was kind of glad that he no longer had to wear his mask, to hide himself.  
  
“Do you mind passing me the 14k hydroclamper?” Han requested, popping his head up. Ben turned to his side and rooted through the toolbox, having absolutely no idea what he was looking for. “It’s the one with two handles and the bolt sized compressor.”   
  
“This one?” He pulled out a gadget and waved it in the air.  
  
“Yupp that’s it.” Han nodded. Just to spite Han, Ben used the Force to have it hover towards him instead of walking literally two feet and handing it to him himself. Hell he could have even tossed it. Han let out a sigh and folded his arms, refusing to grab the suspended item. After a few seconds, Ben released his hold and the apparatus flopped down, hit the edge of the cockpit and proceeded to plummet to the ground.   
  
“Really?” Han grimaced. Ben shrugged nonchalantly. Once he realised that Ben was not going to make a move to retrieve the item for him, Han climbed out of the ship and went to retrieve it himself. Ben seemed to be more childish now than he ever used to be. Han got to work, unscrewing the bolts that held the metal plate in place to protect the wiring and cables underneath. Ben found himself getting restless pretty quick. At first he used the Force to juggle a bunch of bolts, then he broke something (accidentally this time), and finally he carved his initials ‘B.F.S.’ into the wing with a laser cutter (he still hated his stupid middle name), all in the space of five minutes. Blowing out a long breath, Ben lay back onto the cold surface of the wing, using his arms as a pillow, to instead look up at the equally boring sky.  
  
“Hey kid?” Han piped up.  
  
“Hmmm?” Ben half-heartedly hummed.   
  
“Why don’t you come down here and help me out, before you break something we might actually need, or deface this poor ship any further.” Han gestured for Ben to approach. The Force-user pondered the thought for a moment, eventually deciding that being bored was a much more aggravating state of being than the thought of listening to his father yell at him for the very likely possibility of him messing up.   
  
“Fine.” Ben muttered, getting to his feet and making his way over. Han scooted to the side as Ben squeezed himself inside. It was a tight fit, making Ben squirm a little. He really didn’t like being this close a proximity to someone else. Han reached over towards the toolbox and pulled something out.   
  
“Do you know what this is?” Han queried. Ben shook his head. “This is a servodriver, I need you to unfasten the screws that I point to.” Ben reluctantly took the item off of Han and waited for his guidance. Knowing the screws in question, Ben then ducked down into the small crevice of a cockpit and attempted to loosen the fastens. It took him a moment to work out which way to spin the servodriver, but after that he found the task to be quite a breeze.   
  
“Alright, now I want you to remove the metal grate and tear out any fried wires so I can replace them.” Han instructed, feeling this odd pool of warmth simmer in his stomach from watching his son learn something which he could teach him. Ben slid said grate off and inspecting the clump of coloured wires behind it, pulling out the ones that had gone black from an electrical surge. One by one he passed them to Han who threw them away.   
  
“Ok, I think that’s all of them.” Ben said, abnormally eager to find out what his next task would be. He hadn’t experienced gratification in a long time, it was something that Snoke never gave no matter how hard he worked for it. If there was one thing similar between him and Hux, it was their craving for fulfilment from another and their desire to please their Master. Han rooted through the box till he found a bunch of wires and a device that looked somewhat like a blaster.   
  
“Next up, you gotta replace the wires you took out, use this to attach them.”   
  
“A solder-blaster.” Ben remarked.   
  
“Oh, looks like you do remember something I taught you.” Han half mocked. Ben deadpanned and snatched the items out of Han’s hands then got back to work – accidentally electrocuting himself from a little spark while reattaching a wire – ashamedly more than once.   
  
Ben continued his job until the building heat from all the soldering caught up with him, making his face clammy and his hair stick to his forehead. At that, Han proposed a break and they both found themselves sat on the snowy ground while Han passed over some bottled water and a nutrient bar. Ben guzzled the water and splashed some on his face, relishing in the instant cooling affect it had on him. The tips of his fingers were sore from the minor burns he had received and his legs had cramped up from being crouched in the same position for so long, but in truth he had never felt more content.    
  
“You know, you’re actually better at this repair stuff than you think.” Han complimented, nudging his son’s shoulder with his own.   
  
“Well, I suppose being good at fixing things is in my genes.”   
  
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”   
  
“Actually, I was referring to Darth Vader.” Ben said, impassive. Han frowned, he was about to make an irate comment, but was stopped by Ben suddenly laughing, a sound that spontaneously extinguished the fire inside him.    
  
“I’m just kidding. I mean you managed to keep that piece of junk ship running for decades, how bad can you really be?” He raised an eyebrow.   
  
“Hey, don’t insult the Falcon.” Han held up a warning finger. He never understood why Ben didn’t appreciate the ship that he spent a fair majority of his childhood playing on.   
  
“I’m just saying, that ship has seen better days, it needs a renovation.” Ben concluded, drawing patterns in the snow with a finger.   
  
“Well, unless you plan on acting on those words, I would keep your mouth shut if I were you.” Han flippantly threatened.  
  
“Well…what if I do plan on acting on them?” Ben inquired, turning to face his father directly.   
  
“You want to help me improve the Falcon?” Han’s eyebrows shot up. He never thought he’d see the day where Ben would come out with something like that, it was almost too good to be true. Ben reached into his pocket and pulled out the neatly folded pieces of paper and handed them over to Han, swiftly glancing away afterwards and biting his lip. Now was as good a time as any to show Han what he really liked to do in his free time, what little of it he got.   
  
Intrigued, Han opened them up.  
  
“Are these what I think they are?” He uttered, instantly recognising the blueprints of a ship he had known most his life. Except this wasn’t the Falcon. Not the Falcon he had anyway. The sketches were intricate, precise and damn right ingenious.   
  
“They might be a little dated, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen the Falcon so I had to work from old memories.” Ben murmured, playing with a clump of snow, letting it sieve through the gaps between his fingers.  
  
“They’re brilliant Ben, you’ve got one hell of a memory. Huh, I never thought of putting that there and what’s with all this?” Han pointed to an area on the page.   
  
“Well I thought if you updated the tech from the engines to the fuel drive, it would take up much less space, space that could be used for various other things: maybe a bigger cargo hold, a recreation room – mainly for Chewie as I know what’s he’s like when he’s bored and frankly his obsession to win at Dejarik is alarming, he needs to find a new pastime before he does rip off someone’s arms. Or maybe you could expand the crew quarters. Lei-mom was always complaining about the Falcon not being very homely, which was the main reason she didn’t like to spend time on it. But really to start with, you should probably clear out all the rubbish that has been collective building over the years, I can’t even imagine how bad that has gotten now.” Ben forcibly stopped talking, realising that he had started to ramble. His enthusiasm had been confined, compressed to near bursting and now it was gushing out without control.   
  
“I’ve never seen you so passionate about something before. I never knew you were into this kind of stuff.” Han said, finally uncovering the mystery behind all those balled up scraps of paper that littered the floor of Ben’s quarters.   
  
“I just find ship architecture fascinating, it’s a nice distraction. I helped design my command shuttle for the First Order. The wings were my favourite part, inspired by a bird of prey, it had this instant intimidating effect on those who saw it, which was essential for my image as Commander. I had them equipped with substantial defensive capabilities, sensors, deflectors, shield projectors. It was big enough for my own personal space, but small enough to be piloted by a small crew that I needn’t interact with. And I could amass data quickly and from a large range to help me fly unseen if I so decided, or to take stealthy action in removing opposition.”   
  
“I will admit your ship did look pretty badass. But it will still never be as awesome as the Falcon.” Han said, reluctant to admit the next part. “Although I suppose she could to with a little touch up here and there and I would quite like to separate mine and Chewie’s quarters as he snores louder than an injured Gorgodon, and…well…maybe we could put in a third? For you?”   
  
“So you’re admitting the Falcon needs renovation?” Ben smirked.   
  
“No – I just – said she could be _better._ ” Han grumbled. “But how about it though? You and I fix up the Falcon when we get back. You got the ideas and I got the manual skills, maybe we can teach each other something?”   
  
“You know what? I kinda like the sound of that.” Ben smiled a little. He had something to look forward to, a project to think about, he could use it as an excuse to survive. Returning to the Light was going to be tough and he knew he was going to struggle for the most part, probably wishing he’d taken the easy way out when he had the chance. Or allowed himself to be succumbed to the darkness entirely. At least this way he had something almost tangible to hold onto, an anchor, an escape from the torture that he deserved but feared to face.   
  
Han had never been excited over the aspect of methodically taking apart his ship before, but this was a father/son mission, a venture long overdue. He could already imagine it: him struggling to carry heavy pieces of machinery meanwhile Ben looms over all his self-drawn blueprints. Not breaking his concentration, he’d stretch out a hand and suddenly the weight in his arms would feel lighter. Ben would yell at him for putting something in the wrong place and he’d yell at Ben when he’d accidentally damage his ship. He would pat his son on the back after every hard day’s work, then they’d go back home and Leia would be waiting, she’d complain about how their dinner had gotten cold, how Han had somehow managed to get soaked in oil and why Ben had bits of wire tangled in his hair. Ben would get tired and head off to bed while he and Leia would sit together on the couch for a little while longer, telling each other about their day. Finally they’d retire too, but before he would get into bed, he’d check on Ben, just to find the blankets crumpled up on the floor as usual. He’d pick them up and replace them back over Ben, silently complaining to himself that this task was much easier when Ben was much smaller. Like usual he’d place a kiss on his forehead (not caring that his son was probably too old for such chaste affection), however, this time he wouldn’t have to bid him goodnight, because he would have done it before.   
  
“Well, we better get back to work.” Han announced, getting back to his feet and stretching out his back. He looked down to see Ben stretch out his arm towards the ship, shaking one of the stabilisers until something sprung off and was impelled towards his hand.  
  
“Before we do, do you mind telling me why this was on the ship? It appears to be in working condition.” Ben questioned, tossing the item at Han. Han swallowed hard as he glanced at the small tracker in his palm that was no bigger than two inches wide.   
  
“I guess it’s time to come clean, eh?” Han said, uneasy. “This whole thing with you…was a mission. It wasn’t for the Resistance, or to gain the upper hand in the war, it was just for Leia and me. I knew I had to take you away, to get you alone, and prevent you from running if I had any chance of getting through to you. There was no crash, I placed explosives on the ship after we landed, and I had Chewie break your ankle – though in my defence I only asked him to sprain it. It seemed he was a bit angry at you, after all, you hurt him when you left as much as me and Leia. I picked a scarcely inhabited planet, just in case you went on a rampage or the First Order caught up with us. I made sure we landed near a base for supplies, I had an old ship transported here that needed minimal repair works and of course I had Leia locked onto our location this whole time, just in case. The only thing I didn’t plan was getting caught out a snowstorm, or you contracting hypothermia.” Han felt guilty admitting this now, knowing that he had deceived his own son and inadvertently put him in danger.   
  
“I know.” Ben simply said.   
  
“You know?” Han’s forehead creased in confusion.  
  
“I figured something was up the moment I woke up on this planet. As if you’d crash a ship Han Solo. Not to mention how auspiciously uninjured you were and how oddly specific and accommodating a broken ankle was to the situation. I could sense that this planet was strangely uninhabited, to which the luck of landing near an abandoned yet fully stocked base was next to impossible and yet here we are.” Ben gestured to their surroundings. If there was one thing Luke had taught him; it was to be mindful of your surroundings, to think logically, and although he struggled to do that when emotions clouded his judgement, he still had the capability to do so.   
  
“You’re not angry at me?” Han raised an eyebrow, now pocketing the small device.   
  
“I’m passed being angry at you. I’ve spent too long blaming you for my own mistakes, I have to accept that I am to, responsible for the decisions I’ve made. If you’re willing to give me a second chance, then I should give you one, too.” Ben said.   
  
“That has to be the most mature thing I’ve heard you say, ever.” Han half joked, finally noticing the adult in his child. Ben had grown up so much within the space of a few days.   
  
“Don’t get me wrong, when my ankle heals fully, I’m going to kick that Wookiee into the next galaxy…and then I guess I’ll give him an apology.” Ben finished awkwardly, figuring that Chewie deserved that much from him. He was as much a family member as Han, Leia and Luke – whom he also realised he had a lot of amends to make with.  
  
“I’m sure Chewie will greatly appreciate that – though you better be prepared for a hug, he likes hugs and I think he misses hugging you the most.” Han chuckled at the amusing image in his head of Ben being almost squeezed to death by the great fuzzball.   
  
Chewie always had a soft spot for Ben, one that could make even Han jealous at times. He would always remember the way Ben, as toddler, would attempt to speak Shyriiwook to Chewie having absolutely no idea what he was saying, (Han always remembered a few choice phrases like: _exploding force monkeys_ or _green rock of doom_ and Han’s personal favourite: _dad smell like poop of slug_ ) he was just trying to mimic the Wookiee who sat with him. Chewie would get excited and encourage him, he’d even allow himself to be used as a seat, while he read to him books from his own dialect, that his own son had outgrown. When Ben got a bit older, Han would translate for him so Ben could learn the language properly, allowing him to actually have a conversation with Chewie which they both very much enjoyed. Ben was a surprisingly fast learner.   
  
“I guess I’ll just have to grin and bear it…” Ben muttered, not really fancying the idea of an all-consuming, crushing cuddle from what his mother liked to call the ‘walking carpet.’ Han headed back over to the Starfighter and ducked underneath the bulk of the ship, opening up a secret compartment and retrieving the item which he had hidden inside for safe-keeping.  
  
“Well, considering that I doubt you’ll impale me with it, I suppose it’s only fair to give you this back.” Han handed the crudely made lightsaber to Ben, self-assured that he was safe from its blade, and to also prove to Ben that he trusted him enough to return it.   
  
It had felt strange to Ben, to have been separated from his weapon for such a long time. He missed the feel of its weight in his hand and the notion that he could defend himself with ease or vent his aggression without physical repercussions. Still, there was something that irked him now. A plague that had settled upon its appearance, a saber that was built for Kylo Ren, raw and blistering, constructed with a cracked Kyber crystal, unstable and angry. It was a weapon fit for one whose purpose was only destruction. Perhaps he’d make a new lightsaber one day, when the fragments of Kylo Ren had long been extinguished.   
  
“So whattaya say? Shall we get back to fixing up this pile o’ junk so we can go home?” Han proposed, tapping the metal structure of the Starfighter, right as a flaring red bolt hit him square in the chest.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay guys, I kinda got sidetracked with my lack of ability to function and ended up glued to gaming for something to do. But hey ho, back with another chapter, just remind me to post the next one ;) xD


	12. Chapter 11

Time slowed. Han stumbled back, scratching at the ship behind him for support. For a long moment he felt nothing, trapped in stasis, without pain, sensation or thought. Then it hit. Sharp and scorching. Every muscle in his body seized up and he slid down the metal, clutching the wound on his chest and fighting the looming pull into the blackness.    
  
“Dad!” Ben shot towards his dazed father, grabbing his shoulders to hold him upright, his eyes locked on the covered wound that was seeping blood. Hearing the muffled tune of voices encased in helmets and a barrage of jogging footsteps, Ben snapped his head to the side. A squadron of Stormtroopers with readily aimed rifles broke out from their numerous hiding spots around the abandoned base camp. He knew the First Order would find him and now his father was paying the price; the price he was trying to avoid.  
  
Enraged, Ben stood up and ignited his lightsaber, planning to give his weapon one last taste of his fury. Like a vicious predator, he took stance, strong and unyielding. The sound of spitting sparks was vibrant against his heavy breaths, simulating the smoke of a furious fire within the icy air. The Stormtroopers came to a halt a few metres in front of him, target locked and preparing to fire. Ben loosened his wrist, spinning the burning crimson blade, feeling nothing but the anger coursing through his veins. It was time to use it.   
  
At the command to fire, Ben defended off the incoming blast with his saber, deflecting the bolts of red with ease. Multiple Stormtroopers went flying backwards from a striking motion, governed by Ben’s outstretched hand, as the brute strength of the Force catapulted them into nearby buildings, dinting metal, shattering glass, and crumbling stone. Growling, Ben shot forward, slicing his saber through trooper after trooper, swift and agile, leaving black and yellow seared marks across severed limbs and white armour. Blood splattered across snow as Ben drove his saber through the chest of an unsuspecting Stormtrooper, while using the Force to asphyxiate another, crushing their windpipe into smithereens. Every kill was just another branch added to the fire, spreading the all-consuming heat inside, hollowing out Ben, making him see nothing but red.   
  
The remaining Stormtroopers became hesitant, skittish, arms shaking with feet frozen to the ground, firing rounds at random. It was about time they were reminded of the Knight of Ren’s capabilities, how they should fear him and his rage.   
  
The feral buzz of his saber left trails of blistering light in its wake as he mowed down the remaining troops, piling bodies across the cold, cold ground. Even after the current threat was eliminated, Ben was still seething, shoulders tense and fingers wound tightly into fists – having only taken a grazed blaster shot to the arm. He should have sensed this coming, he was better than this, his weakness had gotten his father hurt. It was all his fault; it was _always_ all his fault. Ben’s eyes trailed across the massacre. The numbness that usually followed, was littered with an unusual ache, a feeling that made his stomach coil almost to the point of vomiting.   
  
“Ben.” Han called out from behind him, voice weak and strained. Anger turned to distress as Ben retracted his saber and reattached the hilt to his belt. He ran back towards his father and helped him prop himself up against the side of the ship. The sight of the bleeding wound struck harder than a punch to the gut. He wasn’t ready to lose his father, not when he finally wanted him back in his life. It was already torture to simply live, but Han had eased his pain and given him a reason to try.  
  
“Dad what do I do? I can’t fix up a wound like that and the ship isn’t repaired enough to fly and even if it was, I can’t pilot it.” Ben asked in a flurry, his hands quivering as he clawed his fingers through his hair with vehemence. Han caught sight of the blazing ginger hair before Ben, in his emotionally distress, could even sense a secondary presence. Han attempted to warn his son but was instead ravaged by a fit of bloody coughs which only distracted Ben more and left him in a state of delirium.   
  
“Well if it isn’t Kylo Ren – or should I call you Ben Solo now?”   
  
Ben felt the metal end of a blaster press against the back of his neck and tensed in reaction.                  
  
“General Hux.” Ben uttered in complete and utter disdain, eyes narrowing. So Snoke had sent the General himself to come and collect him? It wasn’t a surprise really, Stormtroopers were too weak to take him down and there were very few people in the galaxy that weren’t actually afraid of him. Hux happened to be one of them.   
  
“You did a good job massacring nearly my entire squadron, looks like I underestimated you, I should have brought more footmen.” Hux remarked, his cold tone did little to make Ben actually appreciate the half-compliment.   
  
“It doesn’t matter how many troops you send at me, I will cut through them all – just like I will cut through you if you don’t leave now.” Ben warned, giving the ginger-haired General a chance to just retreat, simply for his own piece of mind. Perhaps he did enjoy the time they spent together after all. Hux had been the closest thing he had had to a friend – which appeared to be a rival with benefits – but it was still something, a connection.   
  
“You betrayed the First Order, former Commander Ren and for that you will pay.” Hux stated. Ben almost sighed. He tried. Hux was an associate with Kylo, not Ben, so he needed to what had to be done, to protect his family. With Han still coughing himself into a daze, Ben drew his fingers across the hilt of his saber. Hux was fast, but he was faster. Hux pushed his barrel of his firearm further into his neck, for some reason it felt sharp. “Ah-ah-ah, I think it would be within your best interest for you not to draw that weapon of yours, unless you want your father to take another shot?”   
  
Hux indicated towards the roof of one of the buildings where three Stormtroopers were stationed with sniper rifles. The risk became too probable, so Ben relented, letting go of his saber and placing his hands in full view of Hux behind him.   
  
“Giving up so soon? The Ren I remembered had much more fight in him, oh how you have fallen. I am disappointed.” Hux grasped Ben by the arm and hauled him to his feet, manoeuvring the blaster so now it was pressed against Ben’s temple.   
  
“Get your hand off my son.” Han growled, finally coming to. He moved faster than Hux expected, drawing his blaster and pointing it directly at Hux – just off to the side of Ben. His eyes however, locked with Ben, giving him a silent message. Ben understood. He had seen this look before, one Han used when communicating with Chewie under circumstances like these.   
  
“You wouldn’t dare risk hitting your son.” Hux sneered.   
  
“I won’t.” Han said, firing. Ben dove to the side, expecting the shot. The green blast of energy hit Hux in the shoulder, knocking him back with a stagger and forcing him to drop his weapon. The snipers shot. Long, crimson bolts of energy rippled through the air – but came to a sudden halt as Ben raised his hand. He held them there for a brief moment, focusing with all his willpower, and then fired them back. Three Stormtroopers tumbled off the roof with massive black holes in their chest plates. Meanwhile Hux regained composure, knocking the blaster out of Han’s hand before he could fire again. The sound of Han grunting in pain from being kicked in the head, had Ben once again reach for his saber. Before he could even touch it, Hux pulled out a small device and pressed down on the singular button that decked it. A sharp pulse of electricity surged through Ben’s body, emanating from the back of his neck all the way down his frame, leaving him howling in agony. With his muscles seizing up, he was on his knees within a second and on his chest within another. His vision wavered from white to black to white again as the simple act of just moving his fingertips left him with shooting pains. Ben barely detected the sound of Han calling his name behind the excessive ringing in his ears that left his skull throbbing.   
  
Before he was even aware of what was happening, Hux had him by the arm again and was dragging him to his feet, cuffing his hands to his back and removing his lightsaber from his person.   
  
“You didn’t seriously think I wouldn’t be prepared for you trying to fight back?” Hux remarked, he had known Kylo for long enough to read his motives and to predict his actions. He was almost impressed however, that the Knight of Ren was still conscious, even if it was just barely. The level of voltage should have knocked him right out, but he supposed Kylo had always been surprisingly resilient to physical assault. Too bad the thing was only good for one use. Ben stumbled, his head hanging with his hair covering his face and his wrists burning from the energy that seriously hindered his ability to manipulate the Force. Hux leant closer to whisper into the ear of his once esteemed comrade. “Not so powerful now are you Kylo Ren?”  
  
“Ben.” Ben muttered with what little energy he had left. “My name is Ben.”   
  
“Whatever you say.” Hux nudged him forward, pinning his secured arms to his back and unsteadily, Ben began to walk. Han, who Hux had believed was unconscious from the blow to the head, grabbed hold of the Ben’s leg just below his knee – right where his boot begun – and held tightly. Ben, despite his fuzzy vision managed to make out the determination on his father’s face.   
  
“I will find you.” Han promised, right as Hux brought down his foot on his wrist. Han could only watch as Hux dragged his son away.   
  
The sound of an engine taking flight, was enough of a push for Han to struggle to his feet and pull himself up onto the wing of the broken ship. It was tough to do when all his body wanted to do was give up while his mind wished for nothing more than the pleasant release of slumber, but by sheer willpower alone, Han managed to climb into the cockpit of the Starfighter and turn on the commlink. The screen fuzzed as the connection waited to be made.   
  
“Come on Leia…” Han grunted, pressing his hand against the wound on his chest, right where his sternum sat underneath. Time seemed to flicker as the black splotches on Han’s vision took him in and out of consciousness, but the sound of his wife calling his name was enough to bring him right round.   
  
“Han? What happened? What’s going on? Why are you bleeding?” Leia questioned, seeing the line of blood that trailed down the side of Han’ face from the cut on his forehead and the growing read stain across his chest. It wasn’t like her to let her emotions take over, as a General she had to remain composed to lead, but her self-control tended to slip when it came to her family. It was hard to pretend with the people closest to her, especially when she knew how unbearable life would be without them.   
  
“I just got shot a little, it’s not that bad.” Han lied, cracking one of his all famous cocky grins to prevent her from panicking. It didn’t last. “But I need your help, the First Order, they took Ben, you have gotta get him back before Snoke has him killed.”   
  
“I’ll get a team together, we’ll be there as soon as possible. This is the last time I will ever let those kriffing ship-rats and that son-of-a-Bantha take my son away.” Leia snapped, fed up of having her family torn away from her. She had lost her adoptive mother and father, her planet, and so many friends. There was no way she was losing her lover and son, not now, not ever again.

“I knew I could count on you, Leia.” Han smiled, his voice trailing off as the darkness overtook him. He collapsed onto the transmitter screen to the sound of Leia’s frantic voice calling his name in the distance.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I may or may not have forgotten about updating this fic...I kinda fell out of the fandom a little, but luckily, Lego Star Wars TFA just came out and it is beautiful and Kylo Ren is a hot headed cinnamon roll with daddy issues and I love him. So gonna try and get back into the fandom hehe. I had wonderful plans...
> 
> Sorry bout my lack of updates. I have no excuse. I just suck. 
> 
> Also have not edited this soooo no idea how it turned out. Sorry again.


	13. Chapter 12

The commlink short-circuited, but Leia continued to call out to the blank blue screen, furiously tapping the button in a vain attempt to re-establish the connection. Her heart thudded against her ribs, the burning image of Han collapsed on the console was left etched in the forefront of her mind.       
  
Now was not the time to panic.  
  
Now was not the time to panic.  
  
Now was _not_ the time to panic.  
  
Han was badly hurt. Her husband was alone, dying on a frozen planet. Ben had been stolen back by the enemy. Her son, her baby boy, was probably going to be executed for his treason. Her whole family was falling apart right before her eyes, _again._  
  
No. She wasn’t going to let this happen, not if she had anything to say about it. She, Leia Organa-Solo, the former princess of Alderaan, the once leader of the Rebel Alliance, the General of the now fighting Resistance. There was no task too big for her, no fight she had ever lost, and no war she would ever surrender to. Filled with determination, she rose from her seat and headed towards the base’s communal area, in search for the best fighter pilot at her disposal and one of the few people she could trust with such a delicate and clandestine mission.  
  
The public area was bustling with energy, the Resistance members all out partying at the recent victory of blowing up Starkiller base, a major setback to the opposition that would leave them significantly damaged for hopefully a long time to come. Leia navigated her way through the lively crowd of people, avoiding the celebrating drunks calling her name, the obsessive hand shaking and bombardment of hugs. She was in a hurry.  
  
Poe Dameron was playing intergalactic, holographic foosball with the ex-Stormtrooper FN-2187, now known as Finn, and was substantially beating him seven to zero. Poe looked proud of himself while Finn stood bedazzled. Rey stood at the side, encouraging Finn with continuous fist bumps to the air, cheers and loud applause.  
  
“Come on Finn, you got this!” Poe encouraged, flashing his new friend a pearly white smile, purposely slipping up one of his moves to allow Finn chance to strike and subsequently score his first goal. It took a moment for Finn to process his glory while the virtual aliens danced around within the light spaces between the poles.

“Rey did you see that? Did you see that? I think I’m finally getting the hang of this!” Finn threw his arms up in the air and howled with joy while Poe patted him on the back and Rey slung her arm across his shoulders, both laughing at their friend’s excitableness. The noise was cut short however, by the sight of the ever professional Leia Organa with a sombre look on her face that she was clearly trying to hide. Poe cleared his throat and respectively bowed his head to his boss, immediately sensing that something was up.  
  
“General Organa.” He greeted. Leia approached the trio in hopes of keeping at least a little bit of privacy with what she was about to ask.  
  
“I need your help Commander Dameron, you’re the best and fastest pilot in the Resistance and you have never once let me down. This is a matter of urgency, which I need you to not asking questions about, do you think you can prepare the Falcon ready for take-off ASAP?” Leia ordered. She couldn’t risk explaining the mission – knowing full well what Poe and the others thought of the First Order Commander – not that she could blame them. Her son’s actions were far from commendable, in fact they were damn right immoral and even if what Han had said was true and Ben had changed, it would take a long time for them to even acknowledge that fact, nevermind attempt to forgive him.  
  
“Sure, but I’m gonna need a co-pilot – one that I understand – no offense to Chewie.” Poe said, scratching the back of his neck. He knew better that to question the order of the General or to accidentally insult the Wookiee who thankfully wasn’t here right now.  
  
“I can do that.” Rey interjected, she had fallen in love with the Millennium Falcon the moment she flew her for the first time, so any excuse to get back on the ship was a good one.  
  
“Let me come too, I want to help.” Finn added, if Rey and Poe were going, then so was he.  
  
“Thanks.” Leia nodded, leaving the room as quickly as she came to find herself a couple of medics and to tell Chewbacca about Han, which she knew wasn’t going to go down too well. She just hoped he was going to be alright, Ben too, they were both too stubborn in their own nature to go down easy and that much Leia was thankful for.  
  
Poe and Rey had taken less than five minutes to fire up the Falcon and within another minute was up in space, putting in the co-ordinates towards the near desolate planet. Chewie was pacing the cockpit, fiddling with his bowcaster excessively and moaning about his worry for Han. Finn was trying to calm him down, following the Wookiee’s every footstep, only to get yelled at every time he tried to comfort him. Leia had her arms crossed, tapping her fingers repetitively against her elbows, staring out the viewpoint, impatiently waiting for snow-covered sphere to come into view.  
  
Finn eventually gave up chasing around the Wookiee after he decided he needed some alone time in the bathroom and instead sat himself down on one of the seats with an exasperated sigh, wishing he understood the piloting mumbo-jumbo Rey and Poe were animatedly talking about. Unable to console the Wookiee, Finn set his sights to the restless Leia who seemed to be locked in a trance, one that left deepening lines of worry across her face.  
  
“So…err…General…what exactly is the mission here? If you don’t mind me asking.” Finn wondered, wringing his hands across his lap. Leia broke from her stupor and glanced at the ex-Stormtrooper, whom she felt a surprising admiration for. Maybe it was just the thought if FN-2187 could become Finn, then Kylo Ren could once again become Ben Solo, it was good to know that escaping the darkness was not an impossible feat.  
  
“We’re here to retrieve Han Solo.” She simply said, once again masking her concern behind her professional façade, making sure to use words that wouldn’t instil panic or worry – mainly for her own sake. Denial was the best plan of action to keep her logical and focused.  
  
“Han Solo? What happened to him? Rey and I haven’t seen him since Starkiller base, he wasn’t on the Falcon during our escape.” Finn said. He had been worried about the old man. He remembered asking Leia upon their return and she just told him that he was busy, taking care of some personal business.  
  
“That was because he was sent on an undisclosed assignment, something which I had asked of him myself, a personal request.” Leia explained. They were already on the ship in flight, so it wouldn’t waste time disclosing the details and there was no use hiding this secret from her most trusted anymore, it was best to prepare them for what they were going to encounter.  
  
“A personal request?” Rey interjected, spinning around on her seat.  
  
“I sent him to rescue our son, whom is the other reason why we are here, he needs out help too.” Leia declared, letting out a long breath.  
  
“Your son?” Rey’s eyebrows furrowed as she and Finn looked at each other with astonishment. Neither Leia nor Han had even mentioned the fact that they had a child, they hadn’t even alluded to it. It was weird, Rey thought that would be something any parent would be proud to mention. “I didn’t know you had a son.”  
  
“Not many people do.” Leia gave her a sad smile. It was horrible that she had to keep the secret her own offspring, but she couldn’t put that burden on the rest of the Resistance. They all had such high regard for her, that if they knew about Kylo…well it wouldn’t be her reputation that was the problem, but the reluctance people would then subconsciously afflict on themselves when it came to destroying the First Order Commander. They had to see him as their enemy, even if hurt her more than watching her own planet being blown up. Morale was everything when they were this badly outnumbered and outgunned.  
  
“What’s his name?” Finn asked, face lighting up with interest. Who would have thought that the war heroes: Leia Organa and Han Solo had a child? That kid is a legacy, a legacy that for some reason was a secret.    
  
“Ben Falcon Solo.” Leia replied, missing that sound of that name on her voice. She had seldom had chance to use it as of late.  
  
“Falcon? As in Millennium Falcon?” Rey quirked a grin. It sounded like the old smuggler to want to name his son after his esteemed ship.  
  
“Han insisted, after I got to choose his first name.” Leia rolled her eyes, getting a little lost in her own memories. “Han got so excited that I allowed him to pick his middle name. Originally he ended up with this monstrosity: ‘Ben Millennium Falcon Chewie Blaster Smuggler Epic-Pilot Solo.”  
  
“That sounds like a damn awesome name.” Poe added in with a chuckle, taking a break from the console which was simply set to go in one direction. Rey and Finn both started to laugh at the overly enthusiastic set of titles. Han must have been really proud of his mystery son.  
  
“I told him to pick one.” Leia shook her head behind a lazy face-palm.  
  
“So what happened, how come we’ve never heard about this Ben Solo before?” Rey asked, feeling just a tad jealous of the fact that her newly asserted father figure (from her perspective at least) already had a child of his own.  
  
“You have. You just know him better by another name.” Leia’s voice trailed off as he prepared herself for the hateful reactions she was going to receive after her confession. Although it was indirect, the scorn her son received, in turn, was a blow to her.  
  
“What name?” Finn urged.  
  
“Kylo Ren.” Leia closed her eyes. The atmosphere thickened as the process of harsh realization struck each of them one by one. Poe remained silent. For a long time he had had a hunch that something was up with the General. The way she would avoid commenting on the topic of Kylo Ren whenever he was brought up, how she always adamantly refused to take part in excursions that involved going anywhere near the First Order. Or even that one time she refused to fire a missile at the shuttle which she knew he was aboard. Rey found herself gazing at the floor, remembering the encounter she had with Kylo Ren, the snapshot into his mind. She had wondered why Han and Leia had appeared within the many disjointed images she had glimpsed at and why they were filled with so much pain. She should have known by the comment he had muttered with scorn: _he would have disappointed you._  
  
“Kylo Ren? THE Kylo Ren? As in Commander Ren of the First Order?” Finn shot up from his seat as the image of that masked figure clad in black flashed in his mind. He was the embodiment of evil and cruelty, a murderer, a fiend, a _monster_. There was no way he had heard that right. There was no way Commander Ren was the son of Leia and Han, two of the noblest people in the entire galaxy. Leia just nodded, trying to hide the pain from Finn’s reaction. Even an expected reaction still stung to witness. “Are you telling me we are here to rescue the Commander of the First Order? The man who has taken countless innocent lives, stood by and watched planets be destroyed, the man who kidnapped Rey and Poe?”  
  
“Yes.” Leia uttered.  
  
“There is no way I’m helping that _villain_! He is evil.” Finn crossed his arms and turned his back on the crew. He was there when Ren ordered the Stormtroopers on Jakku to slaughter everyone, he was there when Ren tore his saber through that defenceless old man. He was exactly what Finn didn’t want to be; what he turned away from.  
  
“He wasn’t always like that.” Leia reasoned, she needed all their help to rescue her son. “There was good in him once; there still is, I can sense it. He was seduced by the Dark Side, by one more powerful than himself. Han has assured me that Kylo Ren is gone, that he has turned away from that path.”  
  
“I can’t believe that.” Finn said. Leia approached him and gently laid a hand on his shoulder.  
  
“Look, I know I cannot convince you otherwise, I know that was he has done is unforgivable, I know he has caused unbelievable pain to everyone he has come across and I know that pain is personal. But he is my son and I ask you, not as a General, but as a mother to help me. He means everything to me, the truth is; I would jump in front of a blaster shot from one of my own men if it meant it not hitting my son. Please, I am begging you for help, all of you.” She said, glancing from face to face. There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for him. Being called a mother was singly the most important title she had ever had.  
  
“I believe you that there is still good left in him somewhere.” Rey said. “I felt what he felt when he tried to infiltrate my mind. I never thought that one person could feel so much pain. I would have felt sorry for him if it wasn’t for what he had done, the damage he had caused. He is toxic and I hate him…but for the sake of you and Han, I will help you rescue your son because it’s the right thing to do.”  
  
“Thank you, Rey.” Leia dipped her head in appreciation.  
  
“I guess I’m in, too. He might be a bad-tempered ass with no regard for privacy, but if what you say is true, if he has switched sides, then the Resistance will benefit immensely from his intel and his abilities. Not to mention the First Order will take a massive hit from losing their figure head for intimidation – not that I found him particularly intimidating with all that ridiculous facial apparatus. Did anyone else think he looked like a duck?” Poe gestured to his face, motioning an invisible beak. He wasn’t a fan of the idea, but after what Rey had said and from his own experience of the man, it was true to say he was definitely not a guy to be messed with, especially with that freaky-looking weapon. But in all honesty there was something about him that didn’t give off the malevolent vibe. It was like seeing a lethal venomous serpent, backed up into a corner, barring its fangs. Not necessarily evil, but so trapped that it lashes out using its only means of defence – which resulted in fatalities. It was no excuse. The serpent was still responsible for its attack, but it could be understood and perhaps even tamed.  
  
“I’m glad you’re on-board, Poe.” Leia managed a smile. Finally, three pairs of eyes all turned towards the ex-Stormtrooper.  
  
“You’re all crazy, did you know that?” Finn sighed, rubbing his hands down his face. “But I guess if Poe could give me a chance despite the uniform I wore, then I should at least give Commander Ren – err – Ben, the benefit of the doubt.”  
  
“You have no idea how much I appreciate that, Finn.” Leia was touched. It was always nice to see the good individuals that inhabited the galaxy, to know that she was indeed fighting for these people and that her cause was just and worth it.   
  
The Millennium Falcon came to a judder at the break from lightspeed as a white crusted planet came into full view in the viewport. Poe and Rey turned their attention back to the console.  
  
“Looks like we’re here General.” Poe declared. “Looks like one heck of a frozen planet, I should have brought a coat or three.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry. I may have forgotten about posting the rest of this fic for over half a year. But no worries! Literally gonna post the last few chapters all now. I am so stupid. Sorry. So so sorry. I have shamed Star Wars. Haven't read through it though so...yeah I apologize.


	14. Chapter 13

Ben was jerked awake by a hard punch to the jaw, which left his lip bleeding, his head jarred and vision spinning. At some point during the trek back to Hux’s ship, he had lost consciousness. Every one of his muscles felt heavy and filled with pin-like sensations that turned into sharp slashes with every sudden movement. He was on his knees, hunched over and his arms pinned behind him. The only thing that kept him from face-planting the ground, was the chains attached to the shackles that cut the circulation to his wrists and kept him from moving more than a foot away from the wall.

The sound of dripping echoed through the expanse of the dimly lit cave, (a surrounding that Ben had fervently wished to never see against his life) that had been turned into some kind of station, enhanced with metal plates across the walls, automated doors and control panels. Crates, fuel tanks and barrels filled up most of the space, telling Ben that the place was probably being used as a storage facility. Located in every direction, was a pair of Stormtroopers standing guard, including the silver-clad Captain Phasma. To now be the enemy of those he just a few days ago outranked, felt more than surreal. Ben took a breath, wincing at the pungent odour of moss and exhaust fumes that burnt the back of his throat.   
  
“So, Ren, how does it feel to be the one in chains for once?” Hux questioned, voice as sharp as ever. Ben slowly raised his head to look up at the ginger-haired General standing before him. Hux stood with his back ruler straight and his arms pressed almost too tightly behind his back. Ben hadn’t had chance to notice the man’s injuries before, having spent the most part of their original encounter with either a blaster pointed at him from behind, or with a incapacitating pulse of electricity coursing through his body. With a broken nose that was being held together by a strip of tape that left a large purple bruise from cheek to cheek, a stitched up cut on his forehead and a swollen lip, Hux looked beyond a mess.   
  
“You look terrible.” Ben cracked a grin, at least he wasn’t the only one injured.

“The Supreme Leader decided to vent his fury from your betrayal, turning me against myself. It’s surprising the damage you can do with just a wall.” Hux remarked. It was the first time he had experienced Snoke’s power first hand, to know what it was like to have his body deceive him despite how much he screamed for mercy in his own head. “It’s funny don’t you think? That he decided that I was fit for punishment when it was _you_ who was disloyal. As if it was _my_ fault.”   
  
“I’m pretty sure that a little kiros-bird told me that your ultimate weapon was blown up and I’m also fairly certain that has _your_ responsibility written all over it.” Ben chided. His response earned him a nasty kick in the ribs, one that made him spit blood.   
  
“Why were you always the favourite?” Hux hissed. Yes, Snoke was more than displeased by the loss of Starkiller base, but it was the loss of Kylo that he wouldn’t stop going on about. How could one man, one childish, hot-headed man, who threw juvenile tantrums at every slight annoyance be more important to the cause than a superweapon? “But I was always loyal, I never once disobeyed an order. It was _my_ army that lead the First Order to power and glory, _my_ training that made them totally obedient, _my_ superweapon that instilled fear across the galaxy, claiming utter authority for our Supreme Leader. Yet still it’s you who he favours. What makes you so special?”

“A General can be replaced, you are expendable, just another average man with a fancy seat and a fancier title. Unlike me. It’s not big weapons that win authority, nor is it armies, they are both things that can be rebuilt. People fear powerful people, they fear the unknown, the supremacy of the Force. It wasn’t the Death Stars or the multiple armies that prolonged the rule of the Empire. It was the Sith. I represent the same thing, an individual with potential like no other.” Ben clarified, watching the expression on Hux’s face shrivel further with contempt after every word.   
  
“No.” Hux spat, grabbing a fistful of Ben’s hair and yanking his head back. Hux leant in closer, his breath now beating against Ben’s pale and slightly bloodied face. “You are _weak_ Kylo Ren.”   
  
“Is that why you have me in cuffs?” Ben uttered, staring the General right in the eyes. “I know you’re afraid of me, afraid of my power, afraid that no matter what you do, you’ll never control me like you can control everything else around you.”  
  
“I can control you. I have done before and I can right now.” Hux snapped, his other hand gripping Ben’s throat, ignoring the pain in his shoulder from the recent blaster wound. He remembered all the times they had spent together in the privacy of their quarters, the thrill of the raw instinct that drove them. Hux had memorised every single spot on the other man’s body that gave him complete control. With just one touch he could turn the great Kylo Ren into his submissive plaything, have him writhing, moaning, unable to speak or to think.   
  
Kylo would try and fight back, at first he would overpower him with untamed rage, forceful and assertive. But like his temper, it never lasted. Every single time he succumbed to Hux’s will, despite his protests, and every time with the excuse that he allowed it. But Hux knew better. Kylo Ren wasn’t a leader. He was a lost child that looked for purpose and acknowledgement from someone else, he was weak-willed and easily manipulated and that was why it was so fulfilling for Hux. To be able to overpower that which usually couldn’t be restrained.   
  
“You will return to the First Order as Commander Kylo Ren, you will return to Snoke and you will return to me.” Hux stated adamantly, slightly tightening his grasp around Ben’s neck and edging just that little bit closer to the Knight of Ren.   
  
“No. I won’t.” Ben uttered, hearing the sound of his increasing heartbeat deep within in his inner ears, brought on by the sight of the striking facial features of the General, now just a few centimetres away.  
  
“You will.” Hux leered, closing the gap between their lips. He kissed him violently, biting at his lip, reopening the cut, and leaving a fresh river of blood down his chin. Ben almost kissed back, tempted by the nectar that was laced with poison, but restrained himself, much to Hux’s disappointment. It didn’t matter though. The General broke the kiss, only to immediately slam Ben’s head against the cave wall behind him – knocking him clean out. “One way or another.”   
  
With a sneer of sardonic victory, Hux crouched down beside the unconscious Knight of Ren, mimicking tenderness as he brushed back a stray curl from Ben’s forehead, to show his sharp, pale features that Hux had found perversely attractive. He looked inexplicably innocent without his mask, which was alluring, but with it, he was a menace and that was hot. All in all it was like copulating with two different people at once and it was fun to dominate both sides: the fierce and the broken.   
  
“Oh, and by the way, I know about this.” Hux reached into one of Ben’s boots and pulled out a small device with an even smaller light that flashed periodically in the centre. The tracker. “Looks like we’ll be taking down two ships with one missile, you were always quite explosive.”

 


	15. Chapter 14

The Millennium Falcon slowly made it’s descent onto the icy plains of the all-round-winter planet. Blue jet flames melted patches of white, exposing below a dull grey ground, once lined for a landing. Steam burst out from old exhausts ports and aged components clicked into place, revealing the landing gear that always left the whole ship with a shudder as it touched ground.  
  
Leia and Chewie were the first down the boarding ramp, having wavered by its edge during landing. At the sight of the Starfighter, Chewie dropped his bowcaster, ran, and clambered up the side of the ship, calling at top volume to an unconscious Han slumped over in the cockpit. Chewie reached out and shook his comrade’s shoulder. He got no response. After a dismayed wail, the Wookiee leant in and lifted his best friend from the metal confines, holding him in his arms as he jumped down, perturbed by the amount of blood that stained his shirt. Leia rushed over, her heart thudding in her chest and her stomach tied in knots.   
  
“Han?” She tried, her throat going dry as she looked over the pallid form of her husband. She had seen him injured before; multiple times. In fact, it was a miracle when he returned from one of his escapades _without_ a piece of metal lodged in his skin or a blaster-shot burn. The difference was this time; was that he was unconscious, with a chest dyed red and a look of frailty that she had never seen before. “Chewie, bring him back to the Falcon.”   
  
The Wookiee nodded, taking off into a short sprint, leaving Leia to collect herself and the heavy weapon that Chewie loved, but had clearly forgotten about in favour of Han. She struggled to get her legs to work, seeing the state of her husband just made her pine for her son even more. He was the one person in the world she was unconditionally responsible for, from the moment she held him in her arms. She fought off the tingles within the bridge of her nose that threatened upcoming tears and quickly wiped her eyes dry before that had chance to form. She would see him again, alive and well. This was the closest she had come in years, a chance that she would not let slip through her fingers.   
  
“We _will_ be a family again.” Leia told herself, using her words as a motivator to kick start the muscles in her legs that lead her back to the ship.   
  
Chewie had taken Han to the crew quarters where two 2-1B Surgical Droids were ready and waiting. Leia had to politely shove past the crowd of three, hovering at the doorway (to which she then had to shoo off), all presenting different versions of concern: mouth covering from Rey, perpetual ragged hair combing from Poe and fast, heavy breathing from Finn. Leia was at Han’s side within moments, clutching hold of one his hands, and gently brushing her thumb over his knuckles, while the droids sliced open his shirt to get at the wound underneath. Chewie stood guard at the side, mumbling a sound of gratitude at the return of his weapon.   
  
“Your worshipfulness?” Han murmured with a small tug at his lips, roused by the strong, familial presence of the woman he didn’t so much choose to fall in love with. It would forever be his best decision.   
  
“Yeah, it’s me you damn laserbrain.” Leia answered, bringing the back of his hand to her lips to leave a chaste kiss there. Her eyes were beginning to betray here again – but there was no way she was going to cry in front of her narcissistic husband who would just take it as a mock-worthy compliment. Han cracked open one of his eyes, already starting to feel better.  
  
“Hey, there’s no need to be rude, I’m injured here you know?” Han remarked, feeling the pain in his chest start to ebb away with the addition of a Bacta patch, sealing the wound and numbing the nerves around it. Chewie groaned. “Yes, I know you’re here too, bud. Look there’s no need to worry about me ok? It looks worse than it is.”   
  
Han sat up with a start, remembering the most import detail of this whole ordeal. He hissed as the rushed motion left his chest riddled with pain, then ignored the droids attempt to push him back down with their excessive chanting, instead grasping hold of Leia’s shoulders.   
  
“We need to find Ben. General Hux took him, probably with the intention of taking him back to Snoke. If Snoke gets his hands on him again, we’ll lose him for good.” Han urged, no longer caring about his own personal wellbeing. It was his duty to disregard himself for the sake of his child, to be willing to sacrifice himself. It was a notion that Han originally believed to be damn right stupid, giving up one life for another, but that was all before Ben came into the world. That whole experience wiped clean all his previous beliefs and ideals. Dying for a loved one no longer seemed like such a dumb waste. Especially as he had experienced what life was like with his son alive, but lost, and how that felt like waking up to be hanging by a thread that dangled over a chasm of absolute darkness. The thought of living in a galaxy without his son entirely, was inconceivable.    
  
“I know…” Leia muttered, glancing down at the grates on the floor.   
  
“What’s the matter?” Han’s eyebrows furrowed. He swiped away the robotic hands whose attention he just didn’t want right now.   
  
“It’s just…you know I want him back more than anything, he is my baby and I love him so much it hurts…but it’s been so long and I’ve had my hopes crushed so many times before, I’m just not sure I can go through it again, I can’t bear to watch him walk away again.” Leia admitted, feeling ashamed of such weakness. This was her child, she should have been rushing around, preparing herself to do whatever it took to get him back – she wanted to – but the dread of going through the loss once more, was almost too much to handle. Han’s hands relocated to Leia’s face, cupping her cheeks in a tender hold.   
  
“Look at me Leia.” He turned her face towards him. “He called himself Ben. He hasn’t been willing to call himself by that name since the day he turned from us. You are the one who always believed there was light in him, even when I didn’t. But now I can see it and you need to see it with me.”   
  
“I want to see him Han, I want to hold him, I want to hear him call me ‘Mom’ again and more than anything, I just want to bring him home.” Leia said, yearning for the presence of her son. The feel of his soft, silky hairs between her fingers, the warmth of his body from the never-ending hug she’d give him, and that smell, that familiar, soothing smell that reminded her of the precious little baby she’d brought into the galaxy.   
  
“Me too.” Han murmured, before cracking a smile. “Though I’d prefer it if he called me ‘dad’ not ‘mom.’”   
  
Leia laughed a little, combing her fingers through her husband’s once brown hair that now was nothing but grey. Every time she looked at Han, she would always see the young, brash, scruffy-looking spacer that she originally met and loathed. He was everything she wasn’t: free, carefree, impulsive, adventurous, all traits she had little respect for. But ultimately it was his pure heart that won her over, his courage, his goodness, his loyalty. He didn’t help because it was his duty, he helped because he _chose_ to. There was nothing more honourable than electing to do the right thing.  
  
“But how are we going to find him?” Leia then asked, they had no leads, no way of knowing where the elusive General Hux would be taking him. Starkiller base had been destroyed and Snoke’s whereabouts had been as much a mystery as his identity.   
  
“I planted the Starfighter’s tracker in his boot, we should be able to hone in on his location; I doubt they’d have gotten far.” Han said.  
  
“Alright, I’ll go tell Commander Dameron to ready the ship immediately, Chewie you stay here and make sure the medical droids get chance to tend to him properly, I’ll be right back.” Leia ordered, exiting the room only to find Finn and Rey lingering nearby in the corridor, both with their ears pressed against the wall. They hadn’t noticed the presence of Leia. She cleared her throat with her hands on her hips and immediately they both jumped, straightened themselves out with sheepish smiles, and apologized. Leia raised an eyebrow, fond of their child-like antics.  
  
“We just wanted to make sure Mr. Solo was alright is all.” Finn uttered, rubbing the back of neck. Rey just nodded in agreement.   
  
“Well why don’t you go in and see him?” Leia gestured towards the door, internally glad that the pair deeply cared about her husband. She foresaw a long lasting friendship with these two and through Rey, a way to once again make contact with her long lost twin brother. She represented hope for Jedi kind and a reason for Luke to start training an apprentice once more. Finn and Rey’s faces lit up at the prospect as they both headed back to the crew quarters while Leia continued to make her way to the cockpit.   
  
Poe was sat lounged in the pilot seat, his feet up on the console and his hand casually batting the pair of silver dice that hung from the ceiling.   
  
“Don’t let Han or Chewie see you sitting like that.” Leia warned.  
  
“Uh – General – I uh – how’s Han?” Poe sat himself up as quickly as possible, jerking his legs off the cherished ship that belonged to his most respected hero.   
  
“He’ll live, that man is as tough as nails.” Leia smiled. “Do you mind inputting the co-ordinates for the tracker that was left on the old Starfighter here? Han managed to plant the thing on Ben before he was taken, so that’ll be our new destination.”   
  
“Sure thing.” Poe gave a curt nod before pressing the corresponding button that lit up the radar-like screen which now showed a small, stationary, blue dot based on a nearby planet.   
  
“It looks like they’ve landed.” Poe remarked.  
  
“Landed?” Leia inspected the screen for herself. She had expected General Hux to have taken her son as far away as possible, into their own territory, not to the neighbouring planet. The fact that he wasn’t already dead meant that Snoke still had use for him. She’d know if he’d died. She’d feel it. “It’s a little odd don’t you think? That he’s that easy to find. The First Order has been pretty elusive about their whereabouts up until now.”  
  
“Well I’m guessing odd or not, you still want me to get this ship up the air am I right?” Poe quirked an eyebrow and flicked on the ignition switches that brought the ship to life with a not-so-soft hum. “I never thought I’d be on a rescue mission for the bad guy – no offence.”   
  
Han looked peeved as the medical droids began to wrap a bandage around his torso, adamant that he could do it himself. But for some dumb core programming reason the droids refused to let him – and so did Chewie – who was yet to stop blabbering about how much he had missed Han over the last couple of days. Han sometimes wondered how the Wookiee used to cope during the years before Han was even born, considering his high co-dependency.   
  
“I hope you’re looking forward to having your nephew back in your life, Chewie.” Han remarked, refusing to even consider the negative possibilities. Ben was coming back. There was no ifs and definitely no buts. Chewie replied sounding both excited and apprehensive. “Yeah I know you miss him bud, I think he misses you, too.”  
  
Han’s attention snapped to the doorway as Finn and Rey barged in at the same time, accidentally elbowing each other as the ship took off, jerking their balance.   
  
“It’s good to see you again Mr. Solo – I mean sir – I mean Han.” Finn said, saluting the man who had earnt his respect in just one meeting.

“And you, Big Deal.” Han dipped his head with a quirky little smile.   
  
“I’m so glad you’re ok, it wasn’t Kylo – err – Ben who shot you right?” Rey asked, wanting to make sure. It was still hard to come to terms with the fact that that masked monster was the son of Han Solo, the esteemed smuggler she had heard about in stories, whom she greatly admired.  
  
“Ben? No. He has one of the worst shots I’ve ever seen with a blaster.” Han replied, waving the idea off which seemed almost like a joke to him. “I guess you both know about my son then?”   
  
“We know that Kylo Ren is also Ben Solo.” Finn nodded. It made him feel uneasy, to think that the man he had been serving under, Kylo Ren, the one man who generally struck fear right into his very core, was the son of the great hero before him. “It must have hurt to be fighting on the opposite side of your own son, to have to call the boy you raised since birth your enemy.”

“Are you still afraid of him?” Han asked, noticing Finn’s disquietedness.   
  
“Yeah…I mean why wouldn’t I be? I saw that man cut down a defenceless old man, torture his prisoners mercilessly for information, he even turned on Stormtroopers, choking them. Everyone was always afraid to give him bad news, it was pretty much a death sentence.” Finn confessed, feeling guilty admitting this. He didn’t think any father wanted to heat about the criminal misdeeds of his own child, it was an insult by proxy.   
  
“Well if makes you feel any better, he used to not be able to fall asleep without his mini stuffed Wookiee. He used to carry it round with him everywhere, he even cried for a week that one time he managed to lose it.” Han said, shrugging his jacket back on after the droids had finished their work.  
  
“Commander Ren used to sleep with a stuffed toy?” Finn’s eyebrows shot up, he had to cover his mouth to stifle the impending laugh that threatened to make itself heard. The image of the feared Commander, clad in black, cowl up, leaving a shadow across his metal laced mask, hugging a small cuddly toy against his chest was just kinda hilarious – maybe he could even have a pair of fuzzy slippers to go with it?   
  
“ _Commander Ren_ also used to refuse to drink from a cup unless it had his special straw in. _Commander Ren_ used to hide behind Leia’s leg every time a stranger came to visit. _Commander Ren_ used to steal my vests and boots and dress up like me and proceed to follow me everywhere, and I mean _everywhere._ He was constantly tripping up and getting weird food stains on my clothes.” Han disclosed. To him Kylo Ren was no more intimidating than a duckling. He remembered that red plastic swirl of doom that haunted his dreams and the adorable image of Ben dressed in oversized clothes, running round with his makeshift blaster made out of twigs. “I can tell you stories about _Commander Ren_ that would ruin his reputation in a heartbeat.”   
  
By this point both Rey and Finn were nearly in hysterics, it never really occurred to them that someone so villainous used to be a child at some point, innocent and pure, uncorrupted by the galaxy. Somehow knowing this made him seem just that little bit less frightening. Nevertheless, Finn for one, still didn’t want to meet the man face to face, as a good or bad, a temper was still a temper and that temper of his was enough to make a Wampa turn round and run.   
  
“So you believe it then? That’s he turned away from the First Order?” Rey asked, wanting to hear it come from Han himself.   
  
“For the first time in a long time, I really do.”

  
   



	16. Chapter 15

It took no longer than a few minutes for the Falcon to land on the black, desolate rock of the planet of which the tracking signal came from.  
  
“Well this place looks a little…bleak.” Poe commented, looking out at the dull grey sky that was filled with melancholic-looking clouds. The ground didn’t look much better, shrouded in a thick fog that left the eyes blind to anything further than a couple of feet away. It was the perfect environment to hide Stormtroopers for a stealth attack. “Do you know, I have this inking of a feeling that this might just be a trap?”  
  
“I think you might be right Poe, we’ll have to take caution. I’ll go tell Han, you better prepare yourself, we’re going to need all the man-power we got.” Leia instructed, making her way back to the crew quarters. The sound of Han’s loud and enthusiastic voice echoed down the corridor, seemingly caught up in a never-ending monologue. The mention of a name was needless, the tone itself was enough to tell Leia that it was a story about their son. Han only ever used a tone filled with that much joy and pride when he was talking about Ben. She peered round the doorway seeing Finn and Rey sitting on stools beside the bed, hanging off every word Han said with complete captivation. Chewie was stood to the side, occasionally commenting.  
  
“So Ben had somehow managed to climb his way up a thirty-foot tree on Endor. By the time Leia and I found out about Ben’s predicament, he had amassed quite the audience. There must have been about thirty or so Ewoks all circled around the tree trunk, all in a state of panic – panic which Leia immediately joined in on at the thought of Ben falling. Before I could even conjure a plan in my head, I was already a few metres up the tree and still climbing. I didn’t even consider the danger I was in, the possibility of me losing my grip and falling, it just wasn’t an option. All I could think about was my son and getting him down safely. I remember when I finally reached him – I had to give him this pep talk to get him to let go of the tree he was clinging to. I asked him what in the galaxy he was even doing up so high and then I saw this little Humming Peeper poke its head out from the neckline of his top. The little idiot told me he heard the sound of the distressed bird calling for help, having got its wing caught on a particularly sharp branch. Kylo Ren might be notorious for his callous nature but I can tell you now, Ben as a kid, was as kind-hearted as they came.” Han said, he knew it wasn’t a story that would clear the slate, to prove that he used to be something more than a psychopath, he just wanted them to know that there was a glimmer of goodness in his soul.  
  
“You’re talking about Ben I see.” Leia stated, finally making her presence known. Three pairs of eyes all turned towards her.  
  
“Yeah, Han was just telling us stories, we thought that the more we heard about him, the more we could understand and realise that maybe there is something worth saving.” Rey said, speaking for both her and the ex-Stormtrooper. It was hard not to fight with her conscience when it came to Kylo Ren, one of the biggest villains in the entire galaxy. She doubted he knew how lucky he was and what his parents were willing to give up and to overlook for the sake of him. She wished she was this fortunate, to have a mother and father love her like she was the most precious thing in the entire universe, but she knew in her heart that her family were never coming back.  
  
“I just wanted to let you know that we’ve arrived, so if you’d please, prepare yourself.” Leia instructed with a smile. Finn stood up with a dutiful nod and immediately headed out to find himself a blaster, the only thing that made him feel useful. Rey was amidst following him when Leia lightly tugged her by the arm, halting her movement.  
  
“You still have Luke’s lightsaber, right?” She asked, voice just a whisper. Rey nodded. “Do you mind taking it with you? It’s a much stronger weapon than a blaster and something tells me we’re going to be needing it. Though you can take a blaster, too, if you want.” If there was one thing Leia knew, it was to trust her instincts, they were yet to be wrong. She might not have been trained as a Jedi, but nevertheless she was still Force sensitive, carrying the Skywalker genes through her blood.  
  
“I guess so…” Rey answered, reluctant to want to touch that thing again after experiencing what she could only conceive as a vision. It was frightening, to be torn from reality like that and shoved into a situation that you had no control over, being jarred from one emotion to the next.  
  
The Force was just a story to her, a legend, something she’d tell herself at night to fall asleep. She was just a scavenger, a small speck on the galaxy, unimportant to the fate of the universe. She had been happy with that, knowing her choices only affected her and the outcome of her own existence. But now the weight of countless other lives had been placed upon her shoulders. She was the one to have been picked out of the billions and billions of lives around her to be the one to wield the lightsaber, to fight for the Light side of the Force in the never-ending war between good and evil. It was a responsibility she wasn’t prepared for.  
  
With that, Rey left to catch up with Finn, leaving Leia, Han and Chewie alone. Han made an attempt to get off the bed, straining his muscles and grunting at the pain in his chest. Leia darted over and grabbed his shoulders to prevent him from standing up.  
  
“There is no way I’m letting you off this bed Han Solo. You need to rest, we can handle this on our own, right Chewie?” Leia frowned, using her most authoritative voice. The one she tended to use on Han more than anyone else, because he tended to be the most stubborn person in her life. Chewie agreed with her, flashing his bowcaster which had enough firepower to blow its targets ten feet from striking point.  
  
“You should know by now that that tone doesn’t work on me.” Han half grinned. “You should also know by now, that there is no force in the galaxy that will stop me from rescuing our son.”  
  
“I’ve always admired that about you,” Leia softly uttered, bringing her hands up to her husband’s cheeks and stroking the rough stubble with her thumbs.  
  
“What? My dashing good looks?” He smirked. Chewie behind him rolled his eyes and groaned.  
  
“No silly, I meant your aptitude for defying me to follow your own heart. Though the dashing good looks does help.” She chuckled, bringing their foreheads together in an act of intimacy that she only ever did with him and her son. “Just don’t strain yourself alright? Leave most of the work to the rest of us.”  
  
“Deal.” Han said, stealing a quick kiss.  
  
“Alright then, get yourself ready, we’ll be heading out in five minutes.” Leia instructed, breaking the contact and making her way out of the room, followed swiftly by Chewbacca. “Oh and by the way, your spare shirts are in the top drawer.”  
  
“Gotcha.” Han nodded, taking a deep breath in preparation for movement that his body wasn’t up for, nor was his brain – but he tended to not listen to his brain.  
  
It had been a long time since Leia had carried a blaster, preferring to now take the back seat in operations. Her age had caught up with her and she knew she would be more of a hindrance than beneficial when it came down to partaking in missions. She wasn’t like Han, who appeared to be ageless. He would be the one to remain on the frontline till he dropped dead. However, this mission was the exception. It was a good job she continued to practice her aim even after her half-retirement, thus her shot was as sharp as ever.  
  
“Is everybody ready?” Leia questioned, as the docking ramp slowly made its decent into the ground, releasing the outside fog into the Falcon. She glanced at each member of her party individually, they deserved to know they were important and not expendable.  
  
Poe in his bright orange jumpsuit, (minus the helmet and extra apparatus) supporting his BlasTech EL-16HFE rifle with valour and displaying a daring expression that told her that he was up for any task and willing to take on whatever threat was thrown at him.  
  
Finn, adorned in Poe’s old jacket, (that he now treasured with his upmost respect) was slightly jittery, clutching his blaster with a grip too tight and shoulders much too rigid. But held his stance, refusing to give into the impulse to run. Rey’s hand on his shoulder seemed to give him courage.  
  
Rey, dressed in her sandy robes, was as strong-spirited as ever. The true essence of the Jedi was not lost in her, surrounding her with an aura of fortitude and an inner strength that even Leia herself couldn’t match. She was the new hope.  
  
Chewie, the most loyal comrade that Leia had ever come across, was eager to get going. He was the only one other than her and Han that understood the love a parent had for a child. Ben was as much Chewbacca’s family as he was hers, deemed his uncle from the moment the new Solo was born, taking that title with all the responsibility that came with it. Chewie too, had a promise to live up to, a promise he made to Ben himself, to always protect him.  
  
Finally, there was Han. The most determined of them all. His eyes locked with hers, presenting that ever-encouraging smile of his, that gave even the darkest situations a beacon of light to look towards. There was nothing that Leia couldn’t face with Han by her side.  
  
“Let’s go.” She commanded, gripping her weapon firmly and leading the group out into the dense mist. “Stay together everyone.”  
  
Leia navigated them through the silent, barren landscape towards the location flashing on her handheld tracker that signalled her son’s position. Han remained at her side now fully alert and invigorated, somehow managing to remain ignorant to his previous injury. The well trained Poe and Finn flanked the right and left, forefingers teetering on triggers in preparation to fire at anything that moved. Rey and Chewie kept a lookout from behind.  
  
Large steel doors became visible as vents planted in the ground cleared the persistent fog, revealing a control panel at the side, requiring a password to access. They all came to a stop, inspecting the thick contraption that prevented entrance.  
  
“According to the tracking device, Ben is inside.” Leia stated, pressing her palm against the cold metal. This was it. Her beloved Ben Solo was just behind this door, already she could feel his presence radiating in her heart. She knew she wouldn’t be complete without seeing the face of her grown up son.  
  
“Then what are we waiting for? Rey, do you mind doing the honours?” Han said.  
  
“But I don’t know the code…” Rey replied, confused. She looked to Finn, wondering if being an ex-Stormtrooper could enlighten her. He just shrugged.  
  
“The lightsaber Rey, you can use the lightsaber, that thing can cut through anything.” Han disclosed. He had seen Luke cut through door after door with his.  
  
“Ah.” She muttered, unfastening the thing from her belt and igniting it with a slight hesitation, jolting as the bright blue light sprung forth. She then manoeuvred the thing until the red-hot tip slid through the blockade with surprising ease, turning silver bright yellow, spitting sparks and oozing melted clumps of metal. With two hands firmly grasped on the hilt to keep it steady, she began to trace a rudimentary doorway, complete with jagged edges and more snafus than she cared to admit.  
  
“I’ll give you a C- for effort.” Han commented, inspecting the crude, somewhat rectangular shape. Rey rolled her eyes with a disgruntled sigh as she kicked down the makeshift entrance in one blow. She then flashed Han a smug grin, replacing the saber back on her person.  
  
“A+ for the kick.” He then added. Rey looked pleased with herself as she was the first to step through her handiwork. Motion censored lights flickered on, one after the other, lighting up portions of the vast room, filled with nothing other than a bunch of crates and another set of automated door on the far side. The rest of the group piled through, all having expected some kind of confrontation, astonished to find that the enemy was non-existent.  
  
“Weird.” Finn was the first to comment. He would have though the First Order would have tightened their security since the destruction of their base, not to mention Stormtroopers weren’t exactly known for their stealth ability, preferring to make an entrance with guns blazing.  
  
“I was expecting to have shot someone by now.” Poe offhandedly added, lowering his weapon and viewing the interior space that was renovated from just a simple cave.  
  
“Something’s up, whatever you do, don’t lower your guard.” Han warned. All of a sudden a secondary door crashed down from behind them, sealing them inside. Alarms sounded. Lights flared to red, bathing the room in crimson. The interior doors sliced open. In stepped a squadron of Stormtroopers, each armed and ready, greatly outnumbering the Resistance fighters four to one. They spread out to the sides, making way for their General who marched forward, towing a beaten and restrained Ben in front of him.  
  
Everything slowed for Leia as she took her first glance at her adult son, taking in his features behind the split lip, cut cheekbone and the lightly bruised left side of his face. Her baby was all grown up. He was perfect, exactly what she imagined, down to every detail.  
  
“So this is the best rescue team the Resistance has to offer? An old scoundrel, a retired General, a simple scavenger, a cocky pilot, a cowardly traitor and that unkempt oaf of a bodyguard?” Hux remarked, amused. He kicked the back of Ben’s legs, forcing him to his knees with a strained grunt, his hands still cuffed behind him.  
  
“Don’t you dare touch my son!” Leia snapped, raising her blaster at the ginger-haired General. A blaster and a bowcaster followed. The other three moved from target to target between the white-clad enemies.  
  
“Or what? You’ll shoot me?” Hux said with contempt, pressing his hands behind his back and striking the air with his chin. He still felt the sting across his shoulder from where Han’s blaster shot had grazed him before, but he had been taught to never show pain.  
  
“Well that thought has crossed our minds.” Han replied.  
  
“In case you haven’t noticed, you’re greatly outnumbered.” Hux motioned his head to the rally of soldiers at his disposal. He liked his odds.  
  
“Yeah, well, we’re better shots.” Han grinned.  
  
“We’ll see about that.” Hux raised an eyebrow and gave signal for his troops to open fire, pointing his own blaster at Ben’s head to stop him from escaping. The Resistance fighters instantly jumped for cover behind the masses of crates, dodging virtually every laser shot from the inadequate squadron. The onslaught began. Spurs of green and red lights zapped from side to side. Crates began to combust through misdirected fire and Stormtroopers fell one by one (or sometimes three at once, when Chewie’s bowcaster blast, blew them into oblivion).  
  
“Chewie, Finn, Poe, do you mind covering us with a distraction?” Han questioned, pointing his blaster over a crate without looking and firing a shot straight into a Stormtroopers torso.  
  
“No problemo, we got this.” Poe nodded with a wink, tapping Finn on the shoulder and motioning towards a couple of durable looking, small, fuel tanks. Finn’s face lit up with a grin. They both sprung from their hiding spot and fired mercilessly at the tanks until they exploded – taking down a good five Stormtroopers. Chewie vaulted a crate, becoming the centre of attention with his rapid, brutal fire as Han, Leia and Rey snuck around the wall of storage towards the back end of the room.

Hux scowled, mentally cursing the incompetence of his employees. He needed to have a word with his instructors. Noticing the presence beside him, Hux turned his weapon to his right, pointing it at Han Solo who immediately held his hands up in surrender.  
  
“Do you really think you can sneak up on me, Han Solo?” Hux raised an eyebrow. “Her too?” Phasma raised her own rifle at the crouching Rey, half hidden behind large boxes.

“We weren’t the ones doing the sneaking.” Han smirked, right as Leia pressed her gun into the back of Phasma’s armour and fired. She crumpled to the floor with nothing short of a yelp.  
  
“That’s for my son, Captain Buckethead.” Leia spat, redirecting her aim towards Hux. He let go of his blaster and held up his hands, glancing between the two barrels that were pointed at his skull.  
  
“Rey, would you mind removing Ben’s restraints?” Han said. Rey nodded, unleashing her saber and carefully cutting the mid-part of the cuffs in two, releasing Ben’s hands. She crouched down beside him and proceeded to help him to his feet, feeling her skin crawl at the mere contact with the man who had hunted her in a mask. She was glad, to say the least, when he pulled away afterwards.  
  
“So, the parents of Kylo Ren are together again at last? It’s nice to see that the Force alignment of your son didn’t completely destroy your relationship.” Hux smirked.  
  
“You’ve got two blasters pointed at your head, I wouldn’t be smirking if I were you.” Han threatened, not needing the mockery from the First Order General who had more blood on his hands than his son.  
  
“Ren, catch.” Hux said, tossing the cross-guard lightsaber at the Knight of Ren. He caught it, then ignited its fiery blade. Eyes filled with fury shot up and before either Han or Leia could even react, they were flying through the air, pushed by a brute force into a pile of crates.  
  
With a simple nod at Kylo, Hux retreated into the back room with a couple of surviving Stormtroopers, using the control panel behind to permanently lock the door, to flee in an already prepared shuttle, right outside his pre-planned escape route.  
  
Rey staggered backwards as Kylo turned his aggression towards her, raising his saber and swinging with all his strength. Blue and red collided with a sharp buzz. Contact broke. Sizzling through the air, swift and forcefully elegant, Kylo spun his saber, coercing Rey to jerk her head back to avoid injury. Following through with the motion, Kylo continued into a full-body spin going for a second strike, one that was defended by another impulsive movement. Using nothing but instinct to block the barrage of assault, Rey found herself struggling to keep up with her better trained opponent. Lightsaber’s clashed again, searing against one another in equally matched heat. Kylo pushed his weight forwards, bringing the spitting blade closer to Rey’s face, lighting her skin the colour of rage.  
  
“You’re not strong enough to defeat me.” Kylo growled, eyes glazed with the fire of his saber.  
  
“You liar!” Rey yelled. She couldn’t believe she had begun to feel sorry for him, hearing Han talk about him so positively, convincing her that maybe it wasn’t entirely his fault; that somewhere behind the monster was a compassionate soul. Kylo used the crook of his cross-guard to latch onto Luke’s saber’s hilt and yanked the weapon out of her hands, firing it across the room. Unarmed, she stumbled backwards as the furious red-saber began its strike down on her.    
  
“Rey!” Finn shouted, firing a few rounds of his rifle at the Knight of Ren alongside Poe, disrupting the action that would have slain Rey where she stood. Kylo spun around, slicing away the shots effortlessly, before striking out his hand, commanding the Force to immobilize both Finn and Poe. They struggled against their own muscles for a moment before they felt their arms being pulled up and their rifles with it, compelling them to turn their aim on each other. Their eyes met in guilt-ridden apologies as they’re fingers trembled over the triggers.  
  
Leia pulled herself to her feet, eyes brimming with tears as the pain of betrayal carved out her insides, forsaking her with nothing but the hollow feeling of failure. It was all over. Ben had deserted her for Kylo Ren, he was lost, gone forever. She raised her blaster, aiming at the man whose face mirrored the face of her son precisely. The man who’s eyes used to look up at her with love and affection. The man who was the only ever child she would have. Her hand shook. Her vision blurred. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t shoot her own son, not even to save her friends. Tears streamed down her face as she sobbed silently, soon feeling a warm hand envelop her own and slip the blaster from out between her fingers. She turned and buried her face against the chest of the man she had fallen in love with as he held up the blaster, continuing what she couldn’t.  
  
“Ben!” Han shouted. His call was ignored as Kylo continued to maintain his focal point, trying to compel Poe and Finn to pull the triggers, wondering if he could do it. Rey held out her hand, ushering Luke’s saber into her hand and igniting it once again. But before she could even attack, the end of Kylo’s saber was pointed against her throat, a breath away from contact. She could feel the blistering heat against her throat, freezing her whole body to the spot, leaving her to do nothing but swallow the impending dread.  
  
“Kylo Ren!” Han yelled again, somehow finding the willpower to pull the trigger. During the brief moment of distraction of incoming fire that Kylo instantaneously blocked, Rey tore her saber through the air, slicing open the sleeve and skin of his other arm. Kylo hissed, kicking Rey in the chest, and knocking her to the ground. Before Han has chance for a second shot he felt his throat being crushed by the sheer pressure of Kylo’s telekinetic grip. He was so focused on choking Han and keeping Poe and Finn restrained, that he didn’t notice the red bolt heading his way. It struck him right in the abdomen, winding him and breaking his concentration. Kylo fell to a knee with shock plastered on his face, pressing a hand against the deep wound that literally burnt his intestines. He ground his jaw to distract him from the intense pain that should have knocked him unconscious. His saber retracted, pressed under his hand against the floor as he held himself up with what little strength he still maintained from the heavy artillery blow. Blood seeped through his robes, staining the ground below.  
  
Finn and Poe’s muscles were freed, they both instantly collapsed to the floor, regaining control over their wild breaths, giving each other looks of complete and utter relief. Chewie hurled his bowcaster to the floor in frustration, snapping off the negative-default alternating polariser. He buried his face behind his huge hands.  
  
Rey raised her raging blue saber after returning to her feet, ready to take the finishing blow to end the creature known as Kylo Ren and remove his dark stain from the galaxy.  
  
“Wait, Rey!” Han beseeched, rushing towards her. She stopped and retracted the blade. Han caught up and stepped in between the two. “Please…don’t…he’s my son…I should be the one to…” He trailed off, unable to even imagine the word that finished that sentence. Rey bit her lip at the sight of Han’s aggrieved appearance and the desolation in his eyes – it was like looking at someone who had literally lost the will to live. With a nod, she sauntered towards Leia with open arms, ready to console the woman wracked in sobs, knowing that there was nothing she could do to ever heal this wound.  
  
Black spots encompassed Kylo’s vision, quickly dragging him into the perpetual abyss that would end it all. Han sunk to his knees in front of his son, flinching at the sight of the gaping wound in his side, suddenly afraid that every breath might be Ben’s last. It was impossible not to fear the worst.  
  
“Why? Ben…I had you back…I know I had you back…” Han cupped his son’s face, tears building in the corners of his eyes. Brown irises strained to look at him, fading and unfocused. The pools of emotion behind them remained, overflowing with the truths that Han had unleashed over the last few days. None of them were lies, he knew it in his heart; he _knew_ it.  
  
“No…I told you, Ben was _weak_ so I destroyed him, he was too much like his _weak_ and foolish father. My name is Kylo Ren, it will always be Kylo Ren. I will never be _weak_ again.” Kylo hissed, grabbing Han’s forearm in one jerky, desperate motion. Han glanced down, catching view of the torn fabric and the old burn wound underneath that had been marked with a new, searing scar. _  
_  
“Weak…” Han muttered under his breath, infuriated by the abusive self-mutilation that Snoke had forced Ben to commit. Realisation hit. “Listen to me Ben, this isn’t you. Snoke is in your head, manipulating you. You’re not his puppet Ben, you are stronger than he is, you have always been stronger.”  
  
“You are deluded Han Solo, deceived by this face and the memories you refuse to let go of. Your son died a long time ago, I have been misleading you, dragging you into this very trap, to finally finish what I had started on Starkiller base.” Kylo snarled, grip tightening on the weapon pressed to the ground.  
  
“I don’t believe you.” Han said, unwavering. He had spent too long hiding in ignorance, too ashamed to look his son in the eyes, to accept that he _had_ become a monster, and thus not truly understanding the strife, and the true gravity of the situation. He had to understand, that to be fixed he had to admit his son was broken. Now he understood. He could see the difference between the man and the monster and the truth currently before him.  
  
“Then you are weak, too.” Kylo spat, grimacing at the jarring pain in his side that almost tore him from reality. It was taking all his willpower just to keep his insides, inside.  
  
“Maybe I am, but I know my son and I know he can hear me. He’s here, he’s always been here; he never left.” Han claimed, moving his hands to grab Ben’s shoulders, to keep him propped up.  
  
“Prove it.” Kylo snapped with narrowed eyes. It took less than a moment for Han to remember the piece of cord that hung from Ben’s neck. He went with his gut instinct and reached for it, pulling out the trinket that dangled from it.  
  
Never let anyone tell you the odds to something you can definitely do.

“This was my gift to Ben Solo, tell me, if he was dead, why would feel the need to wear this?” Han questioned, presenting the metallic twin portraits in front of his son’s face. Kylo growled, ripping the item from Han’s hand, snapping the cord, and chucking it across the ground.  
  
“And there’s my proof.” Han stated. Kylo Ren had continued to wear it out of his own choice, Kylo and Ben were the same no matter how much they tried to be different.  
  
“Kylo Ren is mine.” There was a flash of movement, Kylo raised his lightsaber, just a trigger press away from burning a hole through Han’s heart. Han realised that it was now or never, so ignoring the potentially very fatal threat, he grabbed his son’s jaw and forced him to look him in the eyes, praying that Ben had enough willpower left in him to fight off Snoke.  
  
“I know you can hear me Ben. Just listen to me now. You have a reason to fight. You were born into the Light, to a mother who loves you more than anything in the entire galaxy and a father, who despite his flaws, would carve out his own heart if he knew it would make you happy. You are a Skywalker and a Solo, the grandson to the powerful but assholey Darth Vader, the nephew to the great Luke Skywalker, the son of Leia Organa the best damn heroine that ever lived and me – some low life scumbag that somehow ended up in this giant mess. My point is, you said that you couldn’t live up to expectations, that you’d never be as powerful as your family. But now you can be, you can prove it, beat Snoke, kick the bastard out of your head and prove once and for all that you are not to be messed with.” Han encouraged. Kylo winced. The inner corners of his eyebrows curled up and his lip trembled as memories flooded through him.  
_  
Ben always loved the beeping noise that the front door made every time the wrong unlocking code was typed in. It excited him, and always broke his concentration from whatever he was currently up to spring his legs into overly enthusiastic overdrive. There was only ever one person that constantly forgot the passcode._

 _“Daddy! Daddy!” Ben yelled at top note, snatching up the small box he kept on his drawers and bolting faster than a missile towards the living room to greet his most favourite dad ever, and the man, who to him, was the brightest star in the galaxy._  
  
_“Hey kiddo!” Han beamed, placing his satchel on the little table by the door. Ben also loved the way his father’s face went from all grumpy-frowny to big-happy-smile when he saw him. He skidded to a halt as Han scooped him up into his arms and nuzzled his nose into his hair. “So how’s my favourite little co-pilot?”_  
  
_“Happy now that daddy is back!” Ben chirped, frowning at the small cut on Han’s forehead. “Daddyyyy! You got hurt again.”_  
  
_“I did?” Han was well aware of the small, insignificant cut on his forehead that he had received from accidentally misjudging the height of a doorframe. He often left small cuts and bruises neglected, just because he loved Ben tending to him when he got home. Being the centre of Ben’s world was such an incredible feeling. It also seemed to make Ben feel important, getting a chance to look after his father and make him feel better._

_“Ugh I think I feel it now…the pain…it’s unbearable…” Han melodramatically groaned, carefully plopping Ben back on the ground and stumbling towards the sofa which he then proceeded to collapse on. He half closed his eyes, pretending to slowly lose consciousness. Ben scrambled on top of him, frantically opening up the small box of special Band-Aids with little pictures printed on them. He picked out one with a solder-blaster on. It took him a moment to peel the sticky back off with his chubby quivering fingers, while Han theatrically grumbled, intermittently peeking at Ben with one eye, closing it again whenever Ben looked in his direction._

_“E chu ta!” Ben groused, getting frustrated._  
  
_“Language.” Han muttered, breaking character to scold his son – not that he noticed. Ben squeaked when he finally managed to pull the blasted plaster free and he press it on the mean and evil cut that hurt his poor daddy. For a moment Han lay completely still and Ben started to panic._  
  
_“Daddy?” He muttered, poking Han in the shoulder. He poked him again. No response. Ben felt his whole world crumble around him. Then all of a sudden, Han sprung up with a playful growl, wrapping his arms around the small frame of his son and squeezing him tightly, seemingly magically revitalised. Fear forgotten, Ben began to laugh._  
  
_“Ah that feels much better. Now daddy must repay the debt for a thank you.” Han stated, once again lifting Ben up and making his way back over to the satchel lying on the table. Ben cocked his head to the side in intrigue as Han clipped open the cover and reached inside, pulling a small item out and hiding it behind his back before Ben had chance to see it._  
  
_“Guess what daddy has got for you, my little co-pilot?” Han teased. He had been pumped up on anticipation for this moment, ever since he found that personalised toy maker on Coruscant. Han was never a fan of spending his hard earned credits and found that when he had no other choice, buying things for himself or even for the Falcon was actually pretty unfulfilling. But when it came to Ben, he found himself keenly enthusiastic. It was easy to hand over the cash when his mind was so caught up with the glorious picture of his ecstatic son._  
  
_“Whatwhatwhat?” Ben chirped, trying to clamber over Han to get a look at the thing he was hiding. It didn’t work. Han wanted to tease him longer, adoring his son’s eager little face, but he just couldn’t refrain from bestowing a hand-crafted miniature version of the Millennium Falcon by play-flying him from behind his back and into Ben’s hands with added sound effects. Ben’s eyes sparkled as he inspected the toy, recognising it instantaneously._  
  
_“Daddy’s ship! The Mirrenioom Falcon!” Ben cheered, before suddenly becoming very confused. He didn’t remember it being this small. “But how do you fit inside it?” Han couldn’t refrain from laughing._  
  
_That had to be the cutest dumb thing his son had ever said._  
  
_“I made a copy and then I shrank it, because my special little co-pilot needs a ship of his own.” He said, being reminded of how much he had missed his little boy. There was a part of him that wanted to go find Luke and hug him – to thank him for hiring him and his ship, which introduced him to Leia – who he wanted to sweep into a loving kiss – to thank for choosing him to love, and for giving him the opportunity to be a father._  
  
_“But I need a crew! I can’t fly a ship lonely.” Ben looked generally dejected by that._

 _“Well it’s a good job I’ve got you covered then.” Han winked, reaching back into his satchel and pulling out yet another toy, a figure this time, of a small-scale Han Solo complete with fully articulated limbs. He held it in front of Ben’s face, using his thumb to make the figure wave at Ben who giggled as he waved back._  
  
_“It’s a mini-daddy!” Ben smiled, being gentle as he took the item off of his father – not wanting to hurt the figure._  
  
_“It sure is, kiddo, look he even talks and sounds just like me.” Han added, pressing the little button on his back, (it was a little weird) letting the pre-recorded voice box stupefy his son with multiple messages like:_  
  
_‘Hey kiddo, wanna go fly the ship into space, just the two of us?’_  
  
_'Always listen to your mother, except when she calls daddy an idiot.’_

 _‘Remember, even when regular sized daddy isn’t here, he always loves you.’_  
  
_Ben was both mesmerised and totally bemused by mini-dad, who he manoeuvred to look as though he was picking his nose which earned him a sharp ‘hey’ from Han._  
  
_“Now when I miss you and can’t find you on the blue screen-thingy, mini-dad can talk to me.” Ben uttered. Though truthfully he wished that real dad wouldn’t leave so often. Ben always found himself staring at the door for a few hours, every time after Han would leave, hoping that it would just be a short trip, that maybe he wouldn’t have to go to bed without his father saying goodnight. It ached to wait and listen for that little beep that signalled his return, somehow afraid that he would never hear that sound again._  
  
_“Yeah I’m sorry about that kiddo, but daddy promises to stick around at least for the next week just for dad and Ben-bonding time.” Han smiled, trying to hide the grief from hearing Ben’s innocent but painful comment._  
  
_“Really?” Ben beamed._  
  
_“Mhmm.” Han hummed._  
  
_“So will you come play with me?” Ben clutched his new toys, thinking that nothing could be more fun than playing with little-dad than with big-dad._  
  
_“Sure thing kiddo, as long as uncle Chewie can play, too.” Han reached back into the satchel for the final time and pulled out a miniature Chewbacca, who had insisted on being made into a toy for Ben too, despite the far more limited sounding voice box._  
  
_“Of course he can daddy.” Ben giggled._  
  
_“You know, I love it when you call me daddy.”_  
  
_“But you are my daddy.” Ben remarked, wondering what else he could possible call him._  
  
_“Exactly.”_

Ben struggled with the onslaught of emotions and attempted to pull against the invisible strings that had him bound. He could feel Snoke’s presence around him like a heavy shroud, burrowing into his skin, coiling around his muscles, and yanking his mind from his body.  
  
“Dad…” Ben murmured, as a stray tear trickled down his face. He looked down at the saber in his hand and flinched at the cruel reminder of the situation he was in, and had been before.  
  
“I love it when you call me dad.” Han attempted a smile. It ached.  
  
“I know.” Ben smiled back with full intentions, but it came out stiff and uneasy. “I-I-I don’t think I can stop him. He’s too strong.” It took all his strength to take control of his hand, fighting against the agonising pull that tore at every nerve to prevent him from resisting. He turned the saber around, till it was directed at himself, a switch away from taking his life, the only way to prevent Snoke from taking his father’s.  
  
“No-no-no, don’t you dare Ben. Don’t you dare ignite that saber!” Han grabbed his hand before he could press it and attempted to wrestle the weapon out his grasp.  
  
“It’s the only way. I’m not strong enough to fight him, I’ve never been strong enough. But I can do this. Please let me save you, let me save mom.” Ben begged. He was not about to make another mistake, he was not about to let Snoke puppet him into taking his father’s life. He was dying anyway, without medical attention the wound on his abdomen would surely kill him soon enough.  
  
“No. It’s my job to save you.” Han stated, wrenching the saber out of his grasp and tossing it into a contained fire, still blazing from a misjudged blaster shot. It was time to take another daring manoeuvre. As predicated, Han felt the sudden pressure around his throat.  
  
“Stop.” Ben pleaded seemingly to thin air. His arm was locked in position, the Force bent to the will of Snoke, slowly squeezing the life out of Han. He screamed inside his head, pushing past the unbearable scene before him and forcing himself to thump the wound on his side, overriding his body with agonizing pain and spreading the flashes of white across his vision.  
  
_“You’re not strong enough to beat me Kylo Ren. I made you. Your strength comes from me and you will submit to my will, just like you always have.” Snoke spoke from his great chair, voice reverberating across the austere expanse. His outstretched fingers jerked further forwards and Ben felt the pressure that forced him down to one knee._  
  
_“No, not this time.” Ben uttered, fighting against the weight, struggling with his whole body to return to his feet. Snoke growled, jolting closer on his seat, surprised at his apprentice’s new bout of strength. Ben unclipped his saber and held it with a firm grip. “I am no longer your puppet Snoke.”_  
  
_“You haven’t got it in you. You are too weak. Darth Vader would be disappointed in you.” Snoke pointed a long, bony finger at him. His face contorted in anger, he was not going to be defied by his own apprentice._  
  
_“Maybe. But it’s not Vader who I want to make proud anymore. He’s dead. But my father isn’t, and I’m not about to let him die. It’s about time I do something right.” Ben said with power in his voice. He flashed Snoke an arrogant grin and ignited his lightsaber, feeling the intense heat impale him in the abdomen. The sound of Snoke roaring faded with him into the darkness._  
  
“Get out.” He muttered. With one final pound, his survival instincts kicked in, and what was left of his strength with the Force, turned its sole priority into life support, short-circuiting both his hold on Han and Snoke’s hold upon him.  
  
Then, Ben collapsed.  
              


	17. Chapter 16

Light bore into Ben’s skull as he cracked open his eyes, adding to the already pounding drumbeat that seemed to resonate across his whole head. He winced, and raised a hand to shield his suffering vision, completely disorientated and aching literally everywhere. Every breath sent shooting pains up his side from the fiery wound that made each nerve in the immediate vicinity scream. Still, he had at least some respite from the slight numbing effect of the Bacta on the bandages that were tightly wrapped around his abdomen.  
  
It was the familiar sound of something small clanking inside a vent that answered his mental question of where he was. There was only one ship in the entire galaxy that sounded this broken without actually being broken. A pleasant but painful stream of nostalgia almost brought a ghost of a smile to his face. It had been an awfully long time since he had been on the Millennium Falcon.

  
“I said you had it in you.” Han said from across the room, keeping his voice down. Ben turned his head from the feathery pillow he lay on towards his father who half-lounged across his own bed, fiddling with something small and metallic. Ben didn’t reply, instead he clutched at the blanket that covered him. A small part of him had wished that the wound would have killed him, that way he wouldn’t have to deal with the aftermath that was yet to come. He was terrified. Terrified of the guilt that would soon eat him up. Terrified of the hatred he was going to receive from virtually every person in the galaxy. Worst of all, he was terrified of facing his parents, knowing that they would overlook all this and always be there to comfort him, despite the fact that he didn’t deserve it. It was finally time to admit to himself, that he was indeed, a coward.   
  
“Are you alright, Ben?” Han asked, quirking an eyebrow and edging towards the edge of his bed, ready to move at any given need.   
  
“Not really…” Ben admitted, tired of trying to wade through lie after lie. He just wanted to cry.   And so he did.   
Han didn’t waste a moment as he hopped off his bed and rushed over to his son’s side, just for Ben to sit himself up – despite the piercing pain that protested the movement – and wrap his arms around him, clasping his jacket and burying his face against his shirt.   
  
“It’s alright Ben…everything will be alright.” Han promised, burying his fingers into his son’s soft black tresses and gently rubbing circles across his back. He had to hold himself together, but it was so hard when Ben’s cries were so infectious.   
  
“I wish that were true…” Ben muttered, his voice muffled by fabric.   
  
“It will be. The worst is behind you, I know the path to redemption is going to be a right kick up the rear and it’s going to hurt far more than being shot by Chewie’s bowcaster, but you can do it. Life will get better Ben and the pain will fade, it always does.” Han reassured. Han may have understood what it felt like to be loathed, being an infamous crook, but the fact was, the amount of people that hated him was only a fraction of what Ben had on his shoulders. It was hard to imagine how his son felt, to know the whole galaxy reviled him, to know that he would have to live every day with the weight of hefty mistakes dragging him down and slowly suffocating him.   
  
“You must think I’m so pathetic…crying like this over things that were my own fault, especially at my age.” Ben said, subconsciously craving some form of abuse, as that was easier to process. Words of comfort just seemed to make his inner turmoil that much harder to bear, it made sense when the outside world matched what he felt on the inside.   
  
“You know what, Ben? How about you give yourself a break eh? Kriff pretending that crying is pitiful, kriff trying to give yourself a hard time when I know you’re better than this, and kriff thinking that you’re too old for your father’s comfort. You’ll always be my son whether you are twenty-four or sixty and I am proud of you.” Han assured. Ben reluctantly pulled himself away, still sniffling, and wiped away the remaining tears.   
  
“I’m sorry for being such a pain in the choobies.” Ben smiled a little.  
  
“Language.” Han grinned, ruffling his son’s already messy hair. His father was right, it was being trapped in his own negativity that got him imprisoned in Snoke’s hold the first place. It was time to face the galaxy head on, accept his mistakes, learn, and finish what Vader started by helping the Resistance destroy the First Order and what remained of the Dark Side once and for all.  
  
“I’m guessing you’re gonna want this back?” Han dangled the metal trinket in front of Ben’s face, having rescued it before they left.   
  
“Yeah.” Ben nodded, pulling his hair out of the way to allow his father to retie the brand new cord around his neck. It took him a moment to realise the trinket felt heavier than usual. After looking down, he noticed why. Filled with intrigue, Ben lifted the cord up and lay the two pieces of metal across his palm for closer inspection. On the right was the one had had received as a kid, all those years ago. It was tarnished and slightly chipped from being constantly worn underneath his heavy robes. The left however, was shiny and new, a copy of the original. Except this time, the portraits were of much better quality, detail wise, and modelled off their current age.   
  
“You’ve been practicing.” Ben stated, seeing the exact likeness to his parents within the new depictions. They had changed so much and yet so little at the same time.   
  
“Yeah, couldn’t have you outdoing me.” Han commented, placing his hands on his hips. “I’m sorry I couldn’t think of something as profound as last time to carve into the back.”

Ben turned it over in his hand to read the etching inscribed on the other side.   
_  
Welcome home, Ben Solo.  
  
_ He bit his lip, brushing his thumb over the words, just to feel them and let them well and truly sink in. He was not going to cry again. He was _not_ going to cry again. He cried again.   
  
“It’s perfect. I don’t think I’ve ever been gladder in my life to be here on the Millennium Falcon.” He said, letting the cold metal fall against his chest and warm his heart. This had always been his father’s one true home and for once it felt like a home to him, too.   
  
“And I’m glad you said that because once you’re all healed up, I plan on taking you on a little trip to well – I don’t know yet – but I’ll come up with something when it comes to it. Maybe we’ll just fly around and land somewhere and see what happens – just you, me and Chewie – because he’ll just get upset if we exclude him. I think it will be a nice way to clear your head, to get away from this war while the enemy licks their wounds and we have time. You could do with a holiday, and more than anything I want to spend some quality time with my son.” Han declared.  
  
“That sounds like fun.” Ben smiled, it would give him chance to make amends with Chewie.   
  
“It will be, because I swear, wherever I end up going, something unpredictable always seems to happen.” Han chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, thinking about all the predicaments he had gotten himself into just from being at the wrong place at the wrong time.   
  
“You’re just a magnet for trouble Han Solo.” Ben let out a laugh that was quickly cut short by a jarring pain in his side. He winced, pressing a hand against the bandaged wound wishing that it would stop causing him so much discomfort. He was never good at masking pain with the Force, as Snoke had always taught him that he could use it as a way to drive his body to the extremes.   
  
“You know, I’m still pretty amazed at how well you took that shot from Chewie’s bowcaster, I mean, the recoil on that thing is bad enough. I can’t even imagine how it felt to have taken an actual shot from it, especially from that close a range.” Han sort of complimented, grabbing the remaining pillows scattered across the beds and propping them up behind his son, so he could at least relax in a more comfortable position. “It makes the blast I took, look like a flea bite.”   
  
“It hurt. A lot. I actually lost feeling in my legs entirely and thought my insides were going spill out. But it was actually kind of helpful I guess…the pain kept me tethered to reality and helped me fight back against Snoke.” Ben clarified, even Snoke couldn’t manipulate a body that couldn’t physically move.   
  
“Well, I think you need a painkiller. We’re gonna be stuck in space for a while it seems, all that dense fog had seeped into the Falcon’s engines and clogged up the hyperdrive so we can’t fly at lightspeed. Rey, Chewie and Poe are trying to fix it.” Han explained. “I’ll go bug the medical droids, see if they can help.”   
  
“That explains why this ship is flying so smoothly right now.” Ben offhandedly muttered.  
  
“I heard that.” Han said, heading out, deciding that he should probably tell Leia that Ben was awake as well – and maybe Chewie too. Especially as he had spent the whole time crying as he carried Ben back to the Falcon, near-fatally wounded by his own weapon.   
  
The two medical droids were idle, stood in the circuity bay awaiting orders. Han had to admit, he hated talking to these things. He much preferred to deal with his own wounds instead of having a cold robotic hand poking at him. Noticing the presence of a life form, the droids sprung into animated life.  
  
“How may we help you sir?” One of them asked, in a dull monotonous voice.  
  
“Err – yeah. My son is in need of a painkiller, do you mind umm helping him out?” Han muttered, finding it weirdly awkward to talk to a droid.   
  
“We can give him some symoxin, if that will suffice?” The other one said, in the same boring tone.   
  
“Yeah that’ll be fine.” Han nodded, about to head back down the corridor, only to be stopped by three mechanical fingers clasping his arm. “What now?”  
  
“You are injured sir, you should be resting.”  
  
“I’m never doing what I should be doing.” Han grinned, jerking his arm out of the droids grasp and continuing on his way. The two droids gave up on trying to get him to return, and instead made their way into the crew quarters.   
  
Leia was sat in the communal area, nursing a cup of her favourite tea within her hands and staring aimlessly at the wall opposite. She didn’t notice Han enter the room.  
  
“Hey beautiful.” He said, slipping into the seat beside her, breaking her from her trance. “I’m no expert, but I think you’re supposed to drink your tea while it’s hot.”   
  
“Hmmm.” Leia mumbled, looking down at the barely touched liquid. She had sat with both her husband and son for the first few hours, after having another breakdown seeing the medical droids work urgently, trying to save Ben’s life as it slipped away second by second. There was just so much blood and Ben was just so pale. Han had to usher her out when it became clear that sitting and watching their son in such a fragile state brought back too many bad memories. “Is Ben ok?”   
  
“Well he’s still in quite of pain, but he’s been mocking the Falcon, so he can’t be that bad. He really is just like you.” Han laughed lightly. For someone who was brought up as royalty, Leia really did have a bit of a foul mouth on her – one that she had passed down their son.    
  
“He’s awake?” Leia’s face lit up.   
  
“Sure is. And I’m pretty certain that he’d love a visit from his mother.” Han smiled, playfully bumping his shoulder against his wife’s. Han had informed her of what happened, that his actions within the First Order Storage base was not of his own will. It angered her a little that she couldn’t see past his actions, or that she didn’t notice the presence of Snoke hovering over her son, but she was just so afraid of what her eyes saw. Fear had clouded her judgement.    
  
“Good, because I’ve waited too long to talk to him face to face.” Leia said, disregarding her tea and sliding out from the circular seating.

“Just go easy on the lecture – not that I think he’ll take most of it in if he’s high on symoxin – oh kark.” Han sprung up, smacking himself on the forehead.  
  
“What?” Leia questioned, feeling her stomach lurch into a knot.   
  
“Symoxin, it’s administered by injection.”   
  
“You mean Ben’s still–?”  
  
“Afraid of needles – and I left two medical droids in there with him.”   
  
“Kriff.” They both said in unison, quickly darting towards the crew quarters.   
  
Ben let out a strenuous sigh at the aspect of being left alone, even if it was just for a few minutes. He had become dependent of his father’s company ever since returning to his former name. Han had become the rock that bound him to Ben Solo, preventing him from slipping back behind the mask. It was always easier to hide away from his problems, than to face them. Ben still doubted himself, and whether or not he had the resolve to head down the path of Light without aid. Still, for the first time in a long time, life actually felt worth living.   
  
The two medical droids startled him as they entered the room and approached him.  
  
“Sir, we have received information that you are in pain and require the aid of an anaesthetic to ease your suffering. Do you still require this assistance?” The droid cocked its head to the side, holding up a syringe and testing the flow of its contents, squirting it into the air. Ben paled.

“Uh – no – it’s ok – I’m fine.” He shuffled backwards, pressing himself as close to the wall as he could, injuring himself further in the process.  
  
“Our sensors suggest that you are in pain. Just relax and we will administer the painkiller.” The closer droid said, leaning closer, bringing the needle closer.   
  
“I’m fine, seriously, just get that thing away from me for the love of–” Ben swiped the droids hand away from him, feeling his chest seize up in an incoming panic attack. It was bad enough letting his father stick him with a needle, nevermind some clunky-looking piece of metal. He knew it was irrational to be afraid of something so small when he was sitting here with a grievous blaster wound in his side, but he just couldn’t outgrow the ingrained fear from his childhood.   
  
“Sensors detect an eighty-seven percent risk of hyperventilation and a significant rise in blood pressure, probably generated by an acute fear of needles. Immediate counter action is required to prevent further strain on body.” The droid said, motioning to the other droid who proceeded to take out an even larger needle, presumably filled with a sedative. Well that had to be the most impractical protocol to deal with a needle-phobia Ben had ever witnessed.   
  
Backed up against the wall, literally, and with both sharp, pointed objects coming his way, Ben recoiled, not even noticing his secondary reaction, until he heard the thunderous clatter of two droids exploding as they collided with brute force into the wall opposite. He lowered his arms, to take a look at the damage, seeing an unsalvageable pile of parts, scattered across the ground, still sparking, and still twitching.   
  
He cursed in a flurry of about four different languages, punched the wall by his side and then buried his face in his hands, groaning as he mentally changed the eight-seven percent chance of hyperventilation, to one hundred, now finding himself struggling to breathe with the crippling pain in his abdomen. Even when he had no deliberate intention of breaking things, he still seemed to break things. He was just the physical embodiment of destruction.     
  
Han and Leia skidded to a halt at the entrance, hearing the catastrophic sound of clattering metal, only to find the source: a bunch of broken robotic limbs, no longer attached to the thing that once resembled a torso, strewn across the floor. It was nothing short of what Han had expected to have happened. Leia took one look at her son, felt her chest cave in and wavered to the side, pressing her back against the corridor wall. She needed a moment. She had often imagined what her first conversation with her son would be like after their length apart. Each one went differently, each one felt more distant, but each one ended with her holding her son and him holding her back. There was so much she wanted to say, yet at the same time there was nothing she wanted to say. The man in the room was her son, her precious son, but he wasn’t the little boy that she lost. Time had changed that, had changed him, and Leia wasn’t sure she knew how to even interact with him. Would he even look at her? Would he even call her mom anymore? Would she be able to embrace him?   
  
“You alright Leia?” Han’s eyebrows furrowed in concern.   
  
“I’ll be in in a minute…I just need pull myself together, I don’t want him seeing me like this.” Leia put up a smile. “You just go in, before he breaks anything else – mainly himself.”   
  
“Got it.” Han nodded, passing past his wife and navigating his way around a maze of parts, trying not to step on anything that might spear his foot – or worse, electrocute him, or even worse – trigger some kind of freaky voice mechanism that had somehow survived.   
  
“Ben?” Han reached out a hand, and, with a little hesitance, placed it on his son’s shoulder. It was immediately shrugged away.

“Go away.” Ben muttered, with little bite to his tone.   
  
“Oh come on, so you broke a couple of droids, there’s no need to sulk about it Ben.” Han complained with a nonchalant shrug. It was unexpected to see this little transgression be the one that actually got to him when there were far worse offences on his track record.   
  
“That’s the thing. Carnage is woven in my soul, even when I try, I still can’t prevent things like this from happening. How am I supposed to change?” He ran his hands through his hair and pulled.   
  
“You’re being over-dramatic Ben, give yourself some credit, you’ve only been doing this whole ‘good’ thing for a few days now. Hell I’m sixty-three and I’m still struggling with this whole ‘good’ thing. Besides you used to break things all the time as a kid, didn’t bother you then. You have a bad temper, we all came to terms with that. It’s why we got you that pillow with the Fyrnock imprinted on it – blew up to ships with one missile with that – stopped you from trashing our stuff or hurting yourself and helped you get over your fear of Fyrnocks.” Han said, perching himself on the edge of the bed, shoulder to shoulder with Ben who appeared to be contemplating his words. Han had to admit to himself that he was getting proud of his pep talking skills, which seemed to have vastly improved since the arrival of his son – who needed _constant_ pep talks…and lectures.   
  
“I suppose I’m going to need another pillow.” Ben sighed, surprised that his usually deadbeat dad had been speaking so much sense recently. “Though I don’t think Fyrnocks will cut it anymore.”   
  
“I was thinking more a punching bag, hey maybe we can get a picture of that snooty looking First Order General, he’s definitely a jerk-ass and has a really punch-able face if I do say so myself.” Han suggested, thinking that Ben might have wanted to get back at the man who had done a number on him after he _graciously_ captured him. Ben’s cheeks flushed a faint shade of pink, much to his own annoyance. The way he used to let off steam with Hux was very far from throwing a fist. As much as he would have loved to repeatedly punch Hux’s face, he knew the satisfaction wouldn’t outweigh the more personal recollections that came with it – not to mention those inappropriate side effects. Funny how just simple memories could elicit such a reaction, despite the fact he well and truly despised the man. He supposed his body remembered such experiences better than his mind.   
  
“I would rather not…” Ben uttered, voice coming out a little too high pitched for his liking. He shifted, and turned away to hide the shame on his cheekbones while fiddling clumsily with the blanket still covering him.   
  
“Why not?” Han speculated, arching an eyebrow, intrigued by his son’s strange reaction. It was definitely something he hadn’t seen before. Ben struggled to form a decent answer that in no way resembled the truth, but luckily he didn’t have to. The blaster wound took that moment to trigger a volatile pain that had him doubled over in seconds, stifling a cry. With the preceding conversation immediately forgotten, Han knew that his son was going to have to take that painkiller whether he liked it or not – and he knew the one person who was best for that job.   
  
“Leia, can you get in here? I need your help.” Han called. Hearing the plea for help from her husband, Leia composed herself and headed inside, quickly springing into parenting mode at the sight of her suffering child. Not even caring what she stepped on, she made short work traversing the room making a beeline towards her baby, not even noticing the sharp shard of metal that left a small gash on her ankle. The soothing smell of her familiar perfume, caught Ben’s attention, inviting him to look up and face the woman he used – no _still –_ cherished the most in the entire galaxy. All Leia’s doubts were vanquished as her brown eyes met his, and all the time apart was forgotten.   
  
With Ben distracted, Han slipped off the bed and hunted down the syringe which he knew had to be somewhere and hopefully not broken. Those things tended to be pretty darn sturdy.   
  
“Hey Ben…it’s been a while.” Leia started, smiling with all her heart for the first time in a long time. Perhaps talking to him wouldn’t be as difficult as she had anticipated.   
  
Ben’s features softened, but he remained lost for words, unable to think of a single thing to say to his mother. Unlike with Han, (who he used as a motif for hate) he had tried to forget her existence of out of complete shame. A part of him hated her more, because she was the constant one, the one that loved him every waking moment of his childhood. Yet she was the one who sent him away and abandoned him. That hurt.   
  
She took hold of a stray curl across his forehead and twirled it around his ear, finding the quirky feature of his as endearing as ever. The light touch left Ben with tingles running across his scalp and down the back of his neck. He clenched his jaw and swallowed.   
  
“Look at you. You’re all grown up…and so handsome.” Leia muttered, taking in all his matured features, having swapped curves for lines and traded the roundness in his cheeks for a much sharper structure. She wished she had seen the transition for herself.   
  
Ben cringed, a little embarrassed by his mother’s harmless scrutiny. Han gave Leia the signal that he managed to find the syringe by holding it up, he then gestured for her to continue working her magic as a diversion for their potentially hazardous son. Acting off both the silent directive and years’ worth of longing, Leia leant in and pulled her son against her chest, burying her fingers in his lengthy, dark locks, feeling a long lost sense of bliss return to her. Ben tensed at first, fighting off the urge to just pull away and run from his insecurity. But he soon gave in to bittersweet temptation, allowing himself this moment of contentment. His mother deserved that much from him.   
  
The moment was ruined when Ben felt the sharp stab of a needle in the back of his arm – it only lasted a second, but it was enough time for Ben to hiss and elbow Han in the gut, sort of, most definitely on purpose.   
  
“I should have seen that coming.” Han grunted, rubbing his abused stomach. He never thought that having a son would be more detrimental to his physical health than his smuggling career.   
  
“I’m sorry about the droids…” Ben muttered, pulling away while actively avoiding Leia’s gaze. He wanted to bang his head against the wall, aggravated that out of all the things he could have first said to his mother – that was what came out. The damn droids.   
  
“Those aren’t _that_ expensive right?” Han questioned, kicking a piece of metal scrap across the floor. He was sure he could use that for something.   
  
“More than what the Resistance can afford, especially since the loss of the Republic to help support us.” Leia sighed. They were already stuck for supplies as it was and causalities were inevitable collateral damage within this war. She needed all the medical help she could get, especially as every soldier under her rule was important. They were people with lives that mattered. If she treated her own like the First Order treated their Stormtroopers, she would be no better than them.

“I could probably acquire some, I know a few traders who come across those kinds of droids – there we go Ben – that’s what we’re gonna do for our little trip.” Han said, already making a mental list of those _traders._ Leia held back a sigh, there was just no stopping her husband and his famed pastime. Despite her past effort of not wanting Ben involved with such dishonourable ordeals, she supposed it was better him doing something like that, than supporting a regime that validated blowing up planets with a super-weapon just because they opposed their regulation and rendered a threat.   
  
“Alright, I’m gonna go see how the ship is doing, I’m sure everyone is missing me out there. So, I’m going to leave you two to – I don’t know, bond?” Han announced, making his way out of the room with a primary objective to find Chewie, who he was sure needed consolation, especially as he’d been the one shoved to the back since Han had been so focused on Ben and Leia.   
  
Ben couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable being left alone with his mother. He had gotten used to his father being around him again from the constant proximity over the last few days. The bond with his father wasn’t nearly as broken as the one with his mother. Although it may have been filled with negativity, Kylo Ren used to think about Han Solo often, keeping the connection alive. Leia Organa was a different story. The figure head of the Resistance – the leader of the enemy – to accept that and be able to act out his duty, Kylo Ren had to forget his mother entirely.   
  
“I really don’t know what to say to you, m-m-m…” Ben gave up on the word. It was hard to say it in front of her when he had almost forgotten the concept.   
  
“You can call me mom, Ben. I would like you to call me mom.” Leia uttered, taking one of his hands and squeezing. It was the one word she yearned to hear from her son’s lips once more.   
  
“Are you sure?” Ben mumbled.  
  
“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Leia frowned.   
  
“Because I haven’t been much of a son…I forsake you and plotted against everything you stood for. I’m surprised you can even look at me without being sickened.” Ben said. It was still hard to believe that after everything, she was still willing to show him affection. With a huff, Leia grabbed hold of Ben’s jaw and forced him to look at her.   
  
“Ben Falcon Solo, I swear you are more theatrical than your father when it comes to feelings. I am and always will be your mother, there is nothing in this galaxy that you or anyone else can do to change that, do you understand?” Leia stated firmly. She swore she was the only one in this family that functioned in times of emotional distress. Luke hid, Han ran, and Ben got lost.   
  
“Why do you care so much about me? If Kylo Ren wasn’t a side to your son, you would want to kill me.” Ben said. He was the monster that Leia fought to destroy.   
  
“Even if I tried explaining to you how I felt, you would never understand. I will _always_ choose you first, Ben Solo. As long as a flicker of my son remains inside, you will always remain my number priority. You are my one and only baby.” Leia declared, kissing her son on the forehead. The day she gave birth to Ben, was the day he became vital to her existence, he made the galaxy a much brighter place and there was no going back from that.   
  
“Why didn’t you have another child?” Ben asked out of impulsive curiousity. In many ways he wouldn’t admit to himself, he was actually glad that he was the only one.   
  
“Are you kidding? You were enough of a handful.” Leia laughed, remembering all the sleepless nights and the toddler tantrums. Raising a child was much more arduous than leading the Rebel alliance, but also much more rewarding.   
  
“I mean after. I was ten when I turned to the Dark Side.” Ben murmured. The more he thought about it, the more he realised that he truly was just a kid. But the fact remained that he was still old enough to know right from wrong. It was his own insecurity and resentment that lead him down that path, Snoke just gave him the key to the cage he had locked himself in.   
  
“I didn’t want another child Ben. You were my everything, you _are_ my everything. I never for a second wanted to give up hope that you would one day come back to me. You were never a mistake nor a failure, and I love you the same now, as I did from the moment I first heard you cry.” Leia admitted. She couldn’t express enough how much she well and truly cherished her tall little boy.   
  
“Thank you.” Ben muttered. He knew those simple words were not enough to show his true gratitude towards his mother. It was time to end the war inside him and instead join the war of the galaxy – on the side that truly mattered.   
  
“Just so you know, when we finally locate Luke, you’re going to be marching your butt right over to him and apologizing for everything you put him through. I know there is nothing you can do to change what you did, but you can sure as hell show remorse for it.” Leia stated, her curt parental tone returning. Ben just nodded. He knew he was going to have to face his uncle at some point as what he did to him and his apprentices was unforgiveable. It was going to take all of his fractured courage to face that abysmal mistake. Still, after what Luke had tried to do him…  
  
“It’s going to be tough to be Ben Solo again, but you’re not the first Skywalker to return to the Light, if _he_ could do it. So can you.” Leia smiled. As much as she hated to use her father as an example, there was no denying the likeness between Vader and Ren and Anakin and Ben.   
  
Han found Chewie in the midst of teaching Finn how to play Dejarik. He assumed Rey and Poe must have shooed him away from the repairs with Finn who was as useful as a broken spanner when it came to mechanics. Chewie was always quite temperamental, his work suffered when he did, and there was no better distraction for the Wookiee than his most favoured game.   
  
“Hey bud, big deal.” Han greeted. Chewie’s attention snapped upwards and he rushed over to Han, tackling him into a hug. Han couldn’t help but chuckle, ignoring the light throb in his sternum.   
  
“Nice to see you Mr. Solo.” Finn saluted him.   
  
“How many times I gotta tell you, it’s just Han,” the smuggler shook his head and sighed. “I see the fuzz-ball here is explaining the rules of this game, huh?”  
  
“Yes, sir.” Finn waved the clipboard he was holding in the air, which he had used to take meticulous notes of Chewie’s teachings.  
  
“Well I got a little tip for ya, let the Wookiee win.” Han advised, before grabbing the Wookiee’s arm. “Do you mind if I borrow Chewie here? You can keep practicing against the AI, at least that way you can still lose with dignity.”   
  
“Uh sure thing.” Finn nodded, studying his notes and then inspecting the holographic images. Han lead Chewie towards the cockpit – their favourite room in the entire ship – which currently was uninhabited. Han flopped himself down onto the pilot’s chair and stroked the sides, missing the feeling of the leather. Then he shifted, frowning, the seat didn’t mould to his rear the same as usual. He always hated it when other people sat in his pilot seat, it didn’t feel the same for a good few days. Chewie sat beside him in his designated spot, spinning the seat to face Han directly and cocking a questioning head to the side while fiddling with sash across his torso.   
  
“Soooo, bud, how ya doin?” Han asked, glancing at the stars as they passed. Chewie vocalised an answer with a deflated shrug.  
  
“Yeah I know buddy, I wish you didn’t have to shoot Ben either, but someone had to do it. You and Leia were the only ones who could and we both know Leia couldn’t do it. You saved her, me and Ben too.” Han explained. He knew how hard it was for Chewie to pull the trigger, especially as he had to hit Ben somewhere that would debilitate his ability to use the Force – a leg or a shoulder wouldn’t do – it had to be somewhere vital but not immediately fatal. Chewie grumbled and glanced down.  
  
“Mad at you? I’m not mad at you for shooting Ben, remember I asked you to sprain his ankle so he couldn’t go running off. The kid can take a hit. Sure he might be spending the next couple of days in bed, but he’ll be fine.” Han assured. Chewie replied, scratching his head.  
  
“Naaah I don’t think he’s mad at you either. Ok maybe about the ankle, but not about shooting him, even he gets that you did what you had to do.” Han said. The Wookiee responded with an unsure tone. “If you don’t believe me, why don’t you go see for yourself?”   
  
Chewie wanted to see Ben. He really did. He just struggled to see past the mask, the way he attacked Rey, Finn, Poe and even Han without holding back. They were his friends too and no matter how much he cared for Ben, he couldn’t overlook that, not the way his parents did. But still, it was hard to ignore the memories of his younger nephew and the emotions that were tied to them.   
_  
Chewie groaned in protest as he was forced back down onto the couch by one Han Solo who was taking absolutely none of his insubordination.  
  
“You gotta rest bud, you know the deal, either another week on my couch or two days in a Bacta tank and I know how much you hate getting that smell out your hair.” Han said, kicking the footstall forward to help prop up the Wookiee’s broken foot. Han couldn’t help but snigger at the recall of the ordeal that had involved an overly excited Bantha during a herding trade that mistook Chewie’s foot for the ground. Chewie growled at him, not finding the same amusement.  
  
“I’m sorry bud, I can’t help it. The image of you hopping around in a circle, clutching at your foot is just too special.” Han grinned, patting his best pal on the shoulder. “Well at least this way you get to spend time with Ben, he’s really been enjoying your company.”   
  
As if on cue, Ben bolted into the room, still dressed in his ‘Jedi’ pyjamas (which was really just an oversized brown onesie with a hood. He always wore them pre-emptively when Luke would visit, and proceed to copy the Skywalker all day in words and mannerisms, much to Luke’s amusement). He shouted Chewie’s name, cradling a bunch of books in one arm and waving something colourful in the air with the other. As Han predicted, the six-year-old tripped over his own feet and stumbled, falling into Han’s already prepared arms.  
  
“Whoa there kiddo, no need to rush, uncle Chewie isn’t going anywhere.” Han chuckled, steadying his son, temporarily taking the pile of books off of him so he could climb his way onto the couch and snuggle himself beside the Wookiee.   
  
“I made you sumfin Chewie, to help you get better.” Ben announced. His confidence shook as he made an attempt to hand Chewie the thing in his hand. “I tried my bestest, but I’m not so good at dwawin.” He shrunk into the seat as Chewie took the item off of him. It was a card, on the front were five stick figures drawn in crayon. Chewie felt his heart soar before he even had chance to look at it. To think Ben appreciated him enough to put time and effort into making something for him, it was truly uplifting. Han manoeuvred himself around to the back of the seating to take a look for himself over Chewie’s shoulder.  
  
Furthest left was an average sized stickman, dressed in a long brown robe with a line of bright blue protruding from his hand, the words scribbled next to him was: uncle Jedi. Next to the obvious Luke, was Leia, dressed in a basic-shaped gown of white and an attempted artistic hair-do. The title: mommy, was written next to her. In the middle was Ben, who for some odd reason was drawn tall and with a stick of blue in his own hand. It was by now a well-known fact that Ben wanted to be a Jedi, he may have kept it to himself for the most part, but Luke, Leia and Han could all see the signs, even if they wished not to.   
  
“Since when are you that tall, short-stuff?” Han laughed, fluffing his son’s soft hair.   
  
“I will be!” Ben argued, crossing his arms with a pout. “I will be taller than you, just you wait!”  
  
“If you say so my little co-pilot. For now you got a whole lot of growing to do if you wanna catch up with me, or maybe you will be a short-stuff forever.” Han teased.   
  
“Can I bowwow this for a moment again Chewie?” Ben asked. Chewie nodded and handed him the card which he was yet to finish reading. Ben plucked out a crayon from his pocket and made some last minute adjustments to the picture on front, hiding it away from both Chewie and Han. He then handed it back. Chewie let out a roar of laughter at the new improvements. Ben had furiously scribbled out the most part of Hans legs to make him shorter and crossed out the title of ‘daddy’ to replace it with ‘Nerf-Herder,’ something which he heard his mother call his father when she was annoyed at him – like he was now. Ben then flashed his father a smug grin.  
  
“Ouch. Chewie help me, I’m being bullied by my own son.” Han complained. Chewie made a comment. “What do you mean you’re taking his side? So much for long-term friendship.” Ben stuck out his tongue as his father feigned hurt.  
  
“Fine then. I’ll leave you two _best _pals to it.” Han shook his head and walked off, leaving the small pile of books on the cushion to Ben’s side.  
  
“I knew I could count on you, Chewie, you’re the best!” Ben giggled. He gave the Wookiee a moment to inspect his own stick-figure, (super tall and covered in brown lines that stuck out like hair) before insisting that he opened the card up. It took a moment for Chewie to work out the strange wording inside. At first glance it looked like a lot of jumbled up and repeated letters, but once he tried to sound the strange words out in his head, he understood what Ben was trying to achieve. Ben had attempted the impossible and tried to write in Shyriiwook._ _Chewie felt his eyes water at the mere thought of that, simultaneously amused and touched by the human six-year-old who was as much family to him as his own Wookiee kind. The Wookiee expressed his thanks vocally and side-hugged Ben who had been nervously fiddling with his long sleeves. Maybe being injured wasn’t so bad after all.  
  
Relieved that Chewie liked his little gift, Ben then picked up one of the books and handed it to the Wookiee who heartily opened it out and began to read to the small child curled up beside him. He had been reading the same five books for the last week, but some reason, he just didn’t care.  
_  
That card was still one of Chewie’s most cherished possessions. He kept it a small treasures box back on his home on Kashyyyk, where it was safe and guarded with little to no chance of ever being lost. He would always remember those two weeks.

Ben had always been such an enthusiastic learner when it came to Shyriiwook, having originally been frightened of his roaring voice and harsh sounding growls, not realising that he was speaking a foreign dialect to what he was used to. But once Han had explained to him, Ben became obsessed, feeling guilty about his reaction and fastidiously learning the tough language so he could communicate with his once scary uncle.   
  
“So how about it, eh?” Han repeated, getting his feet and tactically making his way towards the exit. Not yet breaking the habit, Chewie got up and followed his best friend down the corridor.                
  
Leia was just on her way out of the crew quarters and was half way down the passageway as Chewie and Han approached.  
  
“Did he kick you out?” Han smirked, knowing full well that wasn’t the case merely from Leia’s peaceful expression. It would be something he’d probably do though.   
  
“It seems that painkiller has wiped him out, so I left him to rest.” Leia replied. It was easy to read the stark intentions on her husband’s face, especially when that was matched with the alluding teetering by the doorway. “If you plan on paying him a visit with Chewie, I would get in there quick, before he falls asleep.”   
  
“Right, well we better get in there then. I’d rather not face the wrath of my temperamental son, who’s injuries will mean squat if he gets mad.” Han remarked. For a brief moment he wondered what his son would have been like during his hormonal teenage years – it was a chilling thought – one that he could only guess at, even if it was a good guess. Ben still reminded him of a self-doubting adolescent, still ensnared in his younger years; mad at everything and himself, overwhelmed with the conflicting emotions inside him and unconfident in the point of his existence. It was like Ben was forced to mature, bypass his growth under Snoke’s training. Though after finding himself unable to do so, he instead subdued something which he should have slowly experienced.   
  
With Chewie’s hesitation obvious, Han decided to go in first, quiet and cautiously, preferring to risk his own skin rather than Chewie’s, if they were already too late. Ben was still, his eyes closed and his chest moving up and down rhythmically to the soft sound of every relaxed breath. Han straightened out and let out an inaudible sigh at the resting form of his son, then turned to leave. It was best not to disturb him.  
  
“It’s not like you to leave without saying a word, I know how much you like the sound of your own voice.” Ben cracked a small grin, but other than that, didn’t move a muscle.   
  
“I thought you were asleep.” Han responded, turning back to face him, ignoring the quip.   
  
“You can tell the Wookiee to come in, if he wants, him hovering outside is quite annoying.”   
  
“How’d you know he’s outside?”  
  
“You think I can’t sense the presence of the Wookiee I grew up with?” Ben said, frowning a little. He could feel the restless aura that emanated from Chewie just a few feet away. It was like mental itch that he just couldn’t scratch, preventing his mind from unwinding until it was appeased.  
  
“Chewie, I think that is your cue to come in.” Han announced, motioning for his best friend to enter. Chewbacca fiddled with his sash as he walked in, his head down, watching every footstep in a daze-like state. Then he came to a halt, and forced himself to look up at the young man he had known since birth. He was so much less fearsome without the mask, Chewie found himself almost forgetting its existence as he took in Ben’s features. The face from his memory effortlessly merged with the face he now saw before him, impelling him with a cascade of emotions that were deep-rooted from his past. He still loved Ben, there was definitely no denying it.   
  
“Sorry for ruining Life Day.” Ben muttered, breaking the silence which was beginning to make him feel apprehensive. Again with the apologising for far more insignificant things. But really, there was no apology in the entire galaxy that could equate for the catastrophes he had caused, at least this he could be repentant for with a chance of clemency.

“Wait. It’s Life Day?” Han interrupted, glancing at Chewie in complete and utter disbelief. “Why didn’t you say something? I know how sacred this holiday is to you.”   
  
Chewie shrugged. This marked the first day that Chewie had not returned to his home planet for this celebration of life and death. How was he supposed to rejoice when his brother-in-arms was so miserable? He was surprised that Ben remembered the date and couldn’t help but voice it.  
  
“Of course I remember, I actually tend to be aware of the date, unlike my father.” Ben replied. Not that he could really blame Han for forgetting, with his one-track mind that was completely fixated on him. Han once again, ignored the insult. Chewie made another remark in astonishment.   
  
“Yes I still understand you Chewie, though I would say my Shyriiwook is a little rusty.” Ben sighed. It was hard to forget the language he was obsessed with as a child. Although practice was scarce within the First Order, Ben still took up any chance he got to keep his skills up – which usually involved interaction with a couple of Wookiee bounty hunters for more clandestine jobs. It helped being one of the only members of the First Order who was bilingual in a multitude of different languages. Chewie looked away, feeling the battle inside him tear at every fibre in his body. He wanted to forgive the young Solo, hug him, and pretend that he never left and never did all those terrible things. But at the same time he felt guilty for wanting to do that when there were so many people out there who had lost loved ones because of the man before him. But then again was he truly that much better? They were fighting a war, just on different sides, either one thinking they were the one whom was right. Chewie had taken lives, Stormtroopers were people too; he wasn’t innocent. But it was still different.   
  
“It’s ok if you resent me, Chewie. I deserve that, just like I deserved getting shot.” Ben uttered, forcing himself to laugh, it came out bitter. One blast was nowhere near enough. “I’m still the bad guy.”   
  
Chewie let out a stern, scolding sound, there was no way he’d let Ben talk about himself like that. Believing that he deserved to be on the receiving end of a blaster, even if it was a least a little true. The sweet and gentle boy he used to know was not lost, he was just trapped inside the dark and hateful young man that was slowly beginning to fade. Yes, Kylo Ren had done awful things, but Chewie could not see the man in the mask, but the little sapling he once and _still_ cherished. How could he resent the being who brought him so much joy in the past?   
  
“You know it to be true Chewie, you should hate me, even if my parents can’t.” Ben sighed. It was surreal and undoubtedly painful to reclaim his former self. He _needed_ someone to hate him, just so it felt real, to prove that it wasn’t some fabricated fantasy. His parents made it damn clear that they would love him till the end, no matter what dark path he strayed down. Even if he couldn’t understand it fully, he had no choice but to accept that. Chewie had a choice. He had no blood-bound obligation to him, he could treat him like the villainous scum he really was.   
  
Han stayed silent, not wanting to break the much needed conversation between Chewie and Ben. Ben needed to understand Chewie’s true feelings and for that to happen, Chewie had to be the one to voice them without prompt. Chewie spoke up again, almost snapping at Ben, who was presently being as stubborn as his father.   
  
“You too, huh? Why doesn’t anyone hate me? I don’t understand...ugh.” Ben uttered, hiding his face behind his hands and continuing to grumble under his breath. He supposed Chewie was right though, it was hard to hate someone who craved forgiveness, no matter how condemned they should be. Chewie responded, softer this time and gently patted him on the shoulder.    
  
“What do you mean I’m too young and naïve to understand?” Ben peeked out from behind his hands, frowning. Chewie chuckled, unable to contain the delight from the realisation that Ben Solo was indeed back. He remembered that frown so vividly, the way his forehead would crease just above the bridge of his nose and the way his lips made that little pout that he seemed to be unaware of.

 “What’s so funny? Am I missing something?” The Wookiee continued to chortle, amused by the completely bewildered expression Ben now displayed alongside the scowl – it was one he had seen before so many times. This was Ben Solo, his little sapling that was still yet to grow into a tree.   
  
“Seriously fuzzball, stop laughing, it’s really aggravating.” Ben grunted, crossing his arms across his chest with a huff. Han then joined in and for some unknown reason, Ben’s cheeks started to heat up which only made the laughter all the more uproarious. Ben could only take it for a few more seconds before he let out a growl and smothered his face with a pillow to both hide his unidentified embarrassment and to drown out the noise.   
  
“You really are too young to understand, you overgrown teenager.” Han sniggered, yanking the pillow away from Ben’s face just in case he decided to suffocate himself. Ben turned onto his side, facing away from the pair, in a non-violent retaliation. He didn’t realise he was smiling. The laughter soon died down and Chewie made an announcement that caught Ben’s attention.   
  
“Whatever it is, it won’t make up for you laughing at me.” He declared, right as something eerily familiar was dropped onto the bed beside him. Two beady little black dots stared back at him from the overgrown brown fuzz that consumed the humanoid figure. He reached out tentative fingers, feeling the coarse hair-like texture of the small stuffed toy that he used to treasure.   
  
“You’ve had it all this time?” Ben sat up, gazing down at the doll which looked tiny in comparison with his adult hand. Chewie nodded. “But I – I ripped her up.” He remembered the day, the day he did the first deed that lead him into the darkness. He tore Kalla up in anger, just like he tore through all those Jedi apprentices. Every remnant of Ben Solo had to be sacrificed.   
  
“And Chewie repaired her, you know he’s been waiting all this time to return it to you? I know you’re a little old for stuffed toys now, but the great big softie here always knew that you’d come back, though he hoped it be sooner rather than later.” Han patted his best friend on the arm – unable to reach his shoulders without making it look natural.   
  
“You’re all so sentimental.” Ben half mocked, placing the stuffed Wookiee on the pillow beside him, too old or not, he knew he would rest better with the thing beside him, reminding him of his childhood.   
  
“So are you, whether you admit it or not.” Han added, casually gesturing towards his own neck where he knew Ben had a pendant he had worn for the years gone by. Ben rolled his eyes.   
  
“I guess I owe you a gift now.” Ben said. Chewie shook his head with a remark. “What do you mean? I haven’t given you anything, I have nothing on me, unless you class using me as target practice a viable gift.”   
  
Chewie groaned, making it clear that he wanted to hear no more comments about Ben getting shot when it was something he would rather forget. He then gave Ben his answer.   
  
“Ok now you’re just being sappy, you hare-brained wa–” Ben was cut off as Chewie encumbered him with his arms and pulled him into an all-encompassing, inescapable hug. He missed the warmth and safety of the Wookiee. There was nothing better than being small and having such a huge guardian to protect you. Even at his current height, Ben couldn’t help but feel the same. Chewie let go when the awkward position clearly started to cause the young Solo pain and proceeded to help him lie down again – despite his protest.

“Do you mind if I go to sleep now?” Ben cocked an eyebrow.   
  
“If you think you can manage it kiddo, if not, I know there is a little sedative lying around somewhere in this room.” Han smirked, heading towards the door, motioning for Chewie to follow.   
  
“I hate you.” Ben said over a drawn out breath, closing his eyes.   
  
“I love you.” Han replied.

“I know.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like p0rn, Kylux p0rn, check out my prequel oneshot fic about Kylo and his fucked up relationship with Hux. 
> 
> I named my pupper Kylo. He is Kylo Ruff, the Dachshund of Ren.


End file.
